Unforeseen Future (REDO)
by SuperYellowSentai
Summary: After his world crumples around him, can his family prevent him from spiraling into anger and alcohol like John once did? Can they find the very thing that caused it to crash? Sequel to Unplanned Parenthood.- MINOR REWRITE
1. Bright Shiny Future

**Okay, so this is a rewrite. I wrote out 22- long- chapters and wrote myself in a corner. So, I'm doing a redo. It's going to be much of the same. A few things have changed, and hopefully improved. I changed up some dialogue, and I added certain characters in, taken certain characters out, and some big situations are going to change. I have either hopefully finished this story completely and posting as much as I can. Or I am in the middle of writing past the block that I hit. However, this pans out the chapter releases should be quick. And I'm not tying myself down this time to word count. Before I kept it around 4000 words if possible. Now it's going to range. If I get my point across in 3000 good, or maybe I'm more descriptive and the chapter is 5000 words. So that should be a difference too.**

 **Just so new people know I am not edited by someone else, so all mistakes are my own. And if you catch a mistake feel free to let me know. Continuity, language (foreign or otherwise); I don't mind being told I made a mistake so please let me know I'll (at some point) go back and edit it. IE- got told I misspelled clothes when I typed cloths. Went back and fixed it. So please don't worry, just don't be a jerk about it.**

 **Also, you have any ideas, maybe they work out better than my own. If they work and fit, I'll put them in future chapters.**

 **Final note, once this has been posted to its completion the previous version will be deleted.**

 **Thanks for the consideration.**

 **Unforeseen Future**

 **Chapter 1: Bright Shiny Future**

Dean was choked up. He let his lips linger a second on the bottle of beer he'd snagged from the fridge and choked back his emotions. The kid in front of him was moving on, taking the next step in his life. Oh, he needed much more beer to get through the night without tears, that was for damn sure. His brother's lips were moving fast, and a smile stayed plastered on them as he looked at his family his own pride exposed.

Graduation. Top of the class, and he'd accepted a full ride to Stanford. His kid brother was going into law. And as proud as he was of this achievement he couldn't help but feel a small sliver of dread creep into his heart. California was a long way, he wouldn't wake up in the same room again with the know it all. Hell, when he'd graduated high school he'd gone straight to a community college just to learn a trade, only to keep in the same vicinity as the butt. And here his little brother was traveling miles and miles away.

California. The state not only was going to steal away his kid, but it had stolen his girlfriend. She had gone off after graduation and bidden Dean to come along. Make a new life. As much as he'd loved Carmen, he couldn't. Sam needed him more. He couldn't explain demons and fires to her without coming off as crazy so- he didn't and they broke up. Now he'd be sure to drive down at least once every few months just to make sure the brother he'd raised ate and took care of himself. How would she feel about that?

A bottle cap bounced off his head and landed in a metal clatter at the feet of his chair. Through narrow slits he glanced up at his brother, hand still raised and fingers still pinched.

"Out of your head." Sam grouched. Sam gave his brother a smile, but Dean saw the same dread cross his brother's face. He wasn't the only one having a hard time with the future distance. "We promised not to start crying until I started packing."

"I'm not crying, bitch." Dean easily tossed back to his brother, then a swig of his beer. He hated being caught moping. "I'm just trying to figure out why you didn't get valet-dictorian." The word was purposefully pronounced to be of slight offense.

Sam snorted. "Susan didn't park any cars, she gave a speech. And I went over this. I didn't want the responsibility."

"She was number two though."

Sam shrugged. "Her family was much harder on her. Besides, I didn't need to have the title under my belt. Not to impress you guys, and not to impress Stanford."

Dean gave the idea some thought. "Damn right. We think your special just the way you are, princess."

"That's Queen Sam tonight." Sam tried keeping a straight face but failed.

Dean smiled back at his kid brother, but felt another tug on his heart. What was he going to do? No Sam to wake up in the morning in more hideous ways than before. No Sam to come home to after a long day of working on cars at the garage. "Just because you're the graduate doesn't mean you've upgraded, in title."

"I certainly think it does." Their father, John, didn't drink, just fingered the lip of the bottle as if tempting fate. He'd been sober a while now. For the most part he was off the stuff. The process to get where he was now certainly hadn't been easy on any of them, and on a bad day he might crack. He finally took a tentative sip, determined to keep his count at one. "I'm damn proud of you boy. You set your sights on a goal, and more than met it."

Warmth swelled in Dean as his younger brother took in the word. _Proud._ That wasn't something his father let out casually and Sam was soaking it in. "Thanks, Dad."

"Don't thank him yet." Bobby scooped up another and flipped the cap off of the beer causally with his thumb. "You know those two nit wits are going to constantly bother you non-stop. Phone calls, visits. I don't know why he's getting a dorm when you need a three-bedroom apartment?" The older man smirked at the face Dean made. "Sorry, two-bedroom apartment. You and Dean will be sharing- right?"

Dean and Sam hadn't stopped sharing a room, even when Bobby had opened it up as an option. Years' worth of sleeping together in the Impala, and even shitty motel rooms set them up for failure. "We're going to give the kid his space." An eyebrow waggle had Sam rolling his eyes before his brother continued. "Besides all the hot college babes he'll be bringing back to the dorm room, he'll be way too busy to spend time with us."

"Please. I'll be spending all of that time in the library. You do know what a scholarship is right? It's not just free money, it's also much more stress to keep my grades up." Sam kept his tone light, but he was serious. He would increase the amount of time studying from when he was in high school. How that was humanly possible Dean didn't know. Kid had not only been taking high school courses but college as well.

"Geeze, you're going to be doing college all wrong. I mean do it for me. I didn't go to a big campus. I just got what I needed and left. You- you get the packaged deal. Drinking, partying, and hot girls. Don't waste it."

He regretted the words as soon as they came out. Dean had applied to colleges- was accepted in almost all of them too. Only when some of the schools and their distance came into play he'd not only felt bad, but Sam had felt bad. Sure, the kid told him otherwise, but he knew. The second that Dean chose South East Technical and went straight for a logical Mechanics degree, Sam's face had wilted. Only thing worse than his big brother leaving was holding him back from his life, from his relationships, from his own damn potential.

"Not that I ever really wanted that." Dean snarked, trying to fix his error. "I wasn't made for some snooty campus. Hunting and working on cars. Now that's a complete life."

Sam shook his head, keeping his emotions in check. "A beer and a girl, all you need."

"Yeah, better than your book and chastity belt."

Sam's face started to go red. His brother didn't drink often, underage and all that shit, but whenever he did any and all emotion bled through. "I don't have a chastity belt…"

"What's her name then?" Dean went to take another sip but found it empty. He nudged a hand towards Bobby, who grunted and bent down to grab him one.

"Dean-" John stated sharply not liking this turn of conversation.

Sam's face was going redder. "Shut up, Dean."

If the kid hadn't he would just be mad, but Lord behold. His little brother had popped the proverbial cherry. "I was kidding, but you actually- now you have to tell me."

"Dean!" This time Bobby was piping up.

"What?! A brother can't take interest in another brother's sexual life?" Dean leaned forward. "Let's see. You've had two girlfriends." He leaned in and watched each twitch on his brother's face. "Charlotte? She was a hot piece?" Sam wrinkled his nose unconsciously. No. "So, it was Alex."

He thought the kid had come home a little flustered one night. He didn't think much. Anything beyond hand holding and his kid brother couldn't handle it. But the kid had gone all the bases with a girl. Hallelujah. He was wondering when he'd finally do it.

Sam was a whole undiscovered shade of red now. "Dammit Dean. Just shut up."

"Was it at her house? No. No, it wasn't." He kept his face up close, just watching the muscles move. "You little scamp, I let you borrow the car that night you came home all flustered didn't I. You totally did it in Baby."

"DEEAANN!" Sam whirled to look at his dad. "Make him stop."

"Dean, stop reading your brother's mind." John scowled at his son, but a hint of humor remained.

It didn't impress Sam. "Dad!"

"What? I am totally being objective." John took another sip of his beer to hid his emotions. When the bottle was down, Sam was still glaring. "Okay, okay. I don't know why your flustered thought, she was pretty. We're I your age-" He didn't finish, just left it off with a hand flourish.

"All of you! All of you are impossible!" Sam gave his family (all of them) an exasperated look.

"I'll bet you put down a blanket and everything." Dean leaned back in his chair his own chest puffed out in pride. "Man, my little bro, the lady slayer."

The red was receding, but bitch face 5 took its place. "I hate you so much."

Buddy had just finished his final round of surveillance and nudged a hand under his boy's hand. Dean was always amazed at that dog. It knew everything about Sam. When he was angry, when he was sad- and it knew exactly what to do in the time. Sam's hand absently rubbed at Buddy's ears. "Hey boy."

Sam's embarrassment went down the more Buddy nudged and demanded petting. Sam placed the beer down, and got up from his seat to crouch down and better accommodate the dog.

"And Buddy will miss me too. Huh, Bud."

"Fluffy- Buddy. You choose the lamest dog names." Dean scoffed he shook the bottle and found it nearly empty. He reached down and took Sam's bottle.

Sam turned to look at his brother an exasperated look. "I was a little kid. What did you want me to name them? Killer? Throat Ripper?"

"Would be nice to sic a dog on someone and not call it Fluffy." Bobby grunted. When Sam's glare turned towards him he shrugged. "Just saying."

"But Buddy fits him so well. Right, Bud?" The clever thing barked in response as the kid spoke. "That's right. Your such a good boy. But not as good as me-" Sam kicked up and took off running into the lot. Buddy gave a loud bark, as if calling his boy a cheater, and took off after him.

John gave a warm chuckle looking after the two. "Somethings just never change."

\--

They had road tripped before. Dean's 18th he'd gone stir crazy in the house, so they'd done a trip. For a good two weeks it was back to the basics, the Impala, the Winchesters, multiple small towns with tourist traps, and sleazy motel; just no hunting. It was one of Dean's best memories. Even Sam had enjoyed it. Now the air was different.

He was heading to college. Blankets, pillows, clothes- everything all packed up and stuffed not only in the back of the Impala, but sitting in a locked trailer behind his father's truck.

Sam was a mix of emotions. Excited, happy, scared, sad, worried. That and several more emotions were swirling in him. Concern topped it all. Concern for his future, for his family. Was this the right step. Knowing that he was potentially some demon's plaything he was incredibly safer at the warded home- around his demon hunting family. The same token, was hiding behind his family the answer? He couldn't live his life afraid of what could be. He had to experience everything that he'd dreamed. _Normal_.

"HEYY! Quit trying to burn a hole in the road, and focus on me.

He was nudged sideways by a firm hand. Sam rolled his eyes and set his brother a toned down irritated glance. "You get more attention than you deserve." He straightened up in his seat and glanced back out the window watching scenery get chewed up. "Besides I was planning on where everything was going to be placed in the dorm."

"Sure you were." Dean's tone suggested he didn't quite believe that statement. Damn he could never get much past his big brother. "Wanna tell me what's going on in your overly large brain?"

Sam organized every thought and fear in his mind and put words to it. "What if this isn't the right choice?"

Surprised Dean looked away from the road, his eyebrows arched up. "Stanford? That was your first choice? You were working your tail off for that scholarship…"

"No, I mean…" Sam inhaled sharply. "Some demon is after me, and I'm just rushing off to college. What if I should be smarter-"

"Sure, we should turn around. Call the school." Dean gave a warm chuckle. "I mean since a demon is after you."

"That's not- I'm not just going to turn tail, Dean." Sam bristled.

"That-a boy." Dean crowed. "I knew you don't want to hide. Not the Winchester way."

Irritated Sam rolled his eyes. "It's not me hiding- It's-" Sam gave a loud grunt. "What if people get hurt? What if you guys get hurt, and I'm not there."

"Quit with the what-if's…" Dean barked. John bled through with every word. "You can't live life afraid of what can happen. Hiding behind Bobby's safely warded door won't accomplish anything accept drive you- and me- up the wall. Go for your apple pie dude. Your wife, two dogs, and six kids. Just use the knowledge that you have to keep that life safe. Anyways, you'll have our dads, and myself to protect you every step of the way."

Sam smirked. "You mean my two dads, and my doting mom."

"Shuddup." Dean gripped back at him. "Here I am trying to make my little sister feel better."

"Ha ha. You're doing quite the job of making me miss you less."

Dean released a hand from the wheel and flapped it dismissively at his brother. "Pleaseee- you're going to be crying for weeks on end. Maybe even write a few poems and songs about how amazing your big brother is. You can email me the results."

"You know how to work anything beyond a Walkman and a wrench?"

"Nice. I see you've been working on your burns."

"I'll email a few of those to you too…" Sam paused as the phone in his lap vibrated. Flipped open it read a short text from his father. Texting seemed to be almost a taxing thing to his father. He couldn't figure out to press the button a few times to switch it to the proper letter. Usually his texts were short, military, and to the point- if not misspelled. "Dad says we should stop and eat."

"He put that all in the text?" Dean seemed surprised.

Sam smirked back. "No. It spells _fomd_. But it's the letters the buttons are attached to that are important."

"If it's not coordinates, then it's a kindergartener in a spelling bee."

"I'm calling him back, save him the trouble of texting." Sam was already dialing the memorized number.

"Such a doting son."

 **A/N: You enjoy it, leave a review. Let me know.**


	2. A Shaky Start

**(A/N: to those who have come from the version before- this is straight up the same. Maybe a sentence or two different.)**

 **Unforeseen Future**

 **Chapter Two: A Shaky Start**

Words were starting to blur together. He didn't think that he would ever get tired of reading. Even in high school he tolerated the written word quite well, even embraced it. But now he was getting tired of it.

A little human interaction might be welcome about now. Not that he'd get it from his roomie Brady. Well- maybe if he'd done like the guy offered many times, and gone to actual parties with him, maybe he would actually talk to people.

Sam scowled and glanced away from the book in irritation. He raised his hands and rubbed his palms on his eyes and inhaled deep. Maybe he should. He'd studied night and day for the first semester, except for the occasions when his brother and father would come along and force him away from the books. His mother hen would gripe that he'd lost weight- that he'd have bags under his eyes, and for a few days he'd crash at their motel room sleeping considerably better hearing his family's soft breath as they slept.

He turned away the thought. It was clear what he missed, and it wasn't the company of a room of drunk college kids- but he chose this. He'd dreamed of this opportunity, and he'd be damned if he ran and hid.

He was done for the day now though. He was burned out. He needed to let off steam. The law book with all its technical terms and previous cases was slammed shut and Sam put his head down on it. Maybe he'd see what party Brady was at and have a beer.

There was a knock at the door and Sam didn't lift his head. Whoever it was- it wasn't his roomie, and Dean hadn't called recently so they weren't important to go out and meet. Another knock, and Sam still didn't say a word. They'd eventually figure no one was home and leave.

Except they didn't. A persistent knock started. Someone using both hands to bang on the door. He'd never really considered murdering someone before, but there was always a first time for everything.

"Unless you are holding a six pack for me, you are not welcome!" Sam barked loudly his forehead still pressed onto the book.

A warm voice responded from the other side of the door. "I have a six pack, but I think I'll be holding onto it thank you. I work long and hard for it."

Dean! Sam was out of his chair and unlocking the door. The door flung wide provided his brother standing at the doorway. "Dean?! What are you doing here?"

Dean was unshaven, and he had grease on his cheek- or possibly just dirt. His hair was tousled and windblown, and his shirt was rumpled from the long drive. And Sam hadn't seen anything better in the past month since his brother had visited. Even his big brother's irritating, cocky grin made Sam's own face light up.

"Hey kid! Why so grumpy?" Dean was pressing his hands to his little brother's cheek and forehead searching for warmth. "You've been getting enough sleep? Are you warm?"

"No, mom." Sam griped. He ripped his brother's hand and forced them away.

Dean stepped into the room and took stock of his brother's side of the room. Despite being a good 'soldier boy' Dean tended to be a bit messier than his brother. Sam folded his clothes neater and kept his items more organized. Not that you would know from what he saw. The kid was leaving clothes on the floor, books anywhere, and even had an apple core sitting on his pillow. The apple core reminded him- "Eating enough?"

"Not hamburgers and fries, but eating, yes." Sam shut the door behind his brother. "Enough with the twenty questions. My turn. Why are you here? Why didn't you call?"

Dean scowled and took a long look at his brother. The kid was stressed. Beyond the mess his brother just looked off. The shadows under the eyes exposed sleepless nights, and the shirt ( _Hot Dog_ with a chubby wiener dog) was fitting much looser than he remembered it being. The work load here was going to kill his brother. He'd have to engrave the tomb stone with 'overworked himself at school.' Maybe add, 'son, brother, dumb ass' beneath it. "Sonny was kind enough to send you his regards. Jody too."

"And you're traveling all the way here to rely that message?"

"No, you ungrateful brat, I missed your musk- and ended a hunt nearby. Poltergeist- Nevada." Dean scooped up one of Sam's texts books from the ground and flipped through it. How the kid understood the legal jargon within, he didn't know. "Worked it with Caleb. He says hello too."

"What's dad up to?"

"Caught sent of the demon in New York, State. He's gone off with the Pastor to check it out. He says he'll check in with me sometime tomorrow." Dean tossed the book on the bed.

"Don't hold your breath." Sam pulled and turned the chair out from under the desk and sat down facing his brother. "Buddy? Bobby?"

"The old man is at home. Last I saw he and Rufus were squabbling like an old married couple. Something about deaths on a lake- what it is or isn't. Buddy is still obnoxious. Keeps licking the bottom of my feet when I sleep, and is entirely too warm when he curls up with me. Snores too."

A hint of bitterness bit through Sam. Buddy warming up with Dean. He didn't want the mutt moping, but it still hurt.

Dean's face scrunched as he tried to interpret his brothers face. "So, you still have that stick up your ass?"

"I'm not partying-no. But I am getting a hint of cabin fever. I look at one more book, and I think my head may explode."

"A soft college girl can help with that." Dean waggled his eyebrows. "You've got a nice selection here, I don't know why you're not diving in. Besides, you're not hideous. You got Winchester genes. You could get any girl you want."

"I was thinking more going for food."

"Lame." Dean stood back up. "Whatever, food it is. Get some crap packed up and you can crash at my hotel room." He wasn't sleeping well obviously, and Dean knew the solution. They'd slept in the same room from day one. So, rinse and repeat. Dean was far from admitting it himself, but it helped him get a full night's rest too. "You call the place, just no health crap. Allow for a decent amount of grease."

It didn't take long for Sam to pack necessary items and lock up the room behind him. At the car however, Sam's hand hoovered on the door handle.

Dean took notice, and paused midway into the car. Using the roof, he pulled himself out of the seat. "What? Want me to come around and open the door for you, Princess?"

Sam raised his weekend bag and tossed it over the top of the car. Dean of course caught it with ease. "Do me a favor. I have to drop something off at a professor's office." Dean's face went sour and Sam tried at appeasing him. "Real quick. Then back to beer and bonding."

"What building?" Dean sighed dramatically.

"You're the best. I need to go back and grab it. Give me five." Sam offered his brother a wide, innocent grin, before running back towards the dorm."

"Hurry or I leave without you."

Sam gave the car a little pat before going back into the building. Once he made it into the main room he glanced at the stairs wondering if they would be quicker, just as the elevator came back down. As fate would have it he would take the elevator. He waited patiently for people to exit and stuck a foot in the door before it could shut so he could fit in as well.

"Wait! Hold it please" A young woman was running towards the elevator pressing a purse to her side so it wouldn't bounce.

Once again Sam stuck a foot in the door and they bounced back outward. He put his foot back in once the blond had made it inside.

"Thank you." She expressed a little winded.

"No problem." Sam shrugged as he instinctively watched the numbers go up as the elevator rose.

Sam frowned when he felt the woman's eyes on him. He glanced down and offered her an awkward smile. Being tall sucked sometimes. Reaching upper shelves were awesome, and seeing over crowds was a God-send. However, he hit his head on a lot of things, and always got stares. Especially in elevators. In elevators, he looked like the Green Giant. At least that's what his brother always told him.

One second the elevator was rising, and the next there was a jostle.

The unexpected shift in the elevator was violent and threw Sam into the wall jamming his side in a bruising blow against the jutted-out hand hold. Sam went to brace himself, but stopped and throw out his arms to catch the blond falling towards him. Before the woman could crack her head on the wall Sam had her wrapped in his arms in a crushing hold. Sam resettled his right arm around her waist and shot out a left arm. His elbow banged against the wall painfully before he got a grip on the handhold, using every ounce of strength to absorb the vibrations jostling them.

It didn't need to be said what was happening. They lived in Palo Alto, _California_. It was an earthquake. Some were good and some were bad. This one was just a little worse than usual. While Sam balanced them, the woman shot out her own hand to press all of the levels on the elevator. Press them all the door opens at the nearest floor and you can get out. It was a sound theory. Only before she was able to press anything there was one final jerk and the elevator whirred to a stop. As if to finalize the situation the lights killed, leaving only the eerie red emergency lights.

The shock took a while to absorb, but the woman was the first to take a breath and say something. "We're between levels 3 and 4." She didn't move from the position against Sam when he released her from his arms. "At least I think we are."

"Sounds about right." He recalled the numbers he'd last seen and he would have come to the same conclusion. "My guess is something blew out. Especially here, an elevator should withstand something like that. Once they fix- whatever it is- they should get us out." Despite his calm exterior Sam jammed the emergency button a little. The light was just dim enough to make the situation creepy, and the chance of the elevator falling (though slim) frightened him. "I could always-"

He was mid-way reaching for the trap door on the ceiling when she stopped him. "Lets leave that for worst case. Like you said someone will come check." She wrinkled her nose at a thought, and the word cute inexplicably popped into Sam's head at that singular action. "Although you certainly are tall enough to reach it Paul Bunyan."

Sam usually hated quips on his height but to the blond he just grinned. "Even had the giant ax and blue ox." His grin wiped off. Damn it. Dean would throttle him. Nothing worse that _lame_ flirting.

The girl laughed however as she lowered herself to the ground using the hand holds. "You'll have to show me sometime." She shot out an arm to wrestle her purse back to her and dug through until she found her phone. A sharp curse followed when she pressed a button on the device and it lit up her face.

"No service?" Sam guessed.

"No." She jammed the phone back in. "This building always has crappy service. You have to step out to make a call."

"Don't worry. My brother is a worry-wart. He came by to visit me, and is expecting me to take five to run up and grab something. When I don't show up again, he'll come around and investigate. Especially if he felt half of what we did." He gave a grunt as he used the hand rail to lower himself down as well. It wasn't terrible, but his side pulsed and his elbow complained as he sat.

"You okay, Sam?" The woman's eyebrow shot up at the sound of his discomfort.

"Yeah I'm fine. I banged against the railing but it's just a bruise. I've had-" Sam paused. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

The blond froze, and hastily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She almost seemed nervous. Why? He was the boy next door, she was the super model that lived down the street. "Well it's a small campus."

"It's a huge campus." Sam countered. "Do we have a class together?"

"Uh, yeah. Professor Cantu. It's large, but I sit in the back, and you usually sit somewhere in the middle. You're so tall it's easy to spot you." Sam wasn't sure if it was the red lighting, but she started to go a little flush.

"Oh, uh. Yeah." Sam rubbed a spot at the back of his head. "I'm sorry, I've never seen you."

"You really don't see anyone but the professor." She found her purse more interesting. "I mean you're always studying. Even in the library you're stuck in books doing homework, writing essays."

Sam shrugged, a little shocked by the attention. Sure, he got noticed by pure height. People would always joke he must have played basketball in high school, when he hadn't. He even sucked when his gym class had played for the week. This kind of attention was something new. It almost sounded like she was purposefully paying attention to him. He studied her while she fumbled with her purse. She was pretty. Too pretty. She was way to pretty to pay any attention to him. Maybe Dean's league but not his.

"I have a scholarship to maintain. No good grades, no school."

She nodded. "I know what you mean. My father's helping, but without the scholarship he couldn't afford this place."

Sam nodded back at her. "So, I'm kind of at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don't know yours."

The woman dropped her purse and wrung at her hands. "Well, yeah, that's not really fair is it. I mean I obviously know who you are-" She squeezed her eyes shut and froze. Sam recognized the motion. It was what he would do every failed flirting attempt. "I mean, not obviously. It's not like I was watching you _all_ the time. Just when we were in the library together, or in class, or- my names Jessica."

Sam waited for her to open her eyes again and thrust out a hand. She collected herself to accept it and shake. "Well it's nice to meet you Jessica. Officially I mean." When his hand went back into his own possession, he leaned his head up against the wall. "Although this is a crappy way to meet."

"I don't know…" Jessica threw her head back too with a smirk. "It could be worse. We could be trapped in Professor Cantu's class for 12 hours."

Sam gave a warm chuckle. "I take it you aren't a big fan of math."

"Or, professors with very dull tones." She squinted her eyes and finally noticed an offensive drawing of male parts on the ceiling. Funny what being trapped in an elevator would uncover. "I mean he sounds like the teacher from Ferris Buellers Day Off."

"He kind of does, but he's a nice guy." Sam lowered his head and regarded the woman. He read pure amusement on her face as he listened to him. "But- that makes me a-"

"A nerd." She laughed. "Uh, yeah. But I knew that. My friends kept telling me that you were a huge nerd."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "You talked to your friends about me?"

Her flush returned. "Uhhh- yeah. I mean it wasn't all the time, just when we were in the same room, and they saw me staring. And- and I am totally coming off as stalker material, aren't I?"

Sam laughed. "I would be lying if I didn't say yes, but-" He met her eyes. "I'm kind of flattered. I'm starting to think that maybe meeting afterwards at let's say if we were to meet up for some coffee I wouldn't be opposed to the idea."

Her expression became serious and she bit at her lip. "I would not be opposed to that idea either. In fact, if you aren't spending time with your brother tomorrow morning then I would love to get some coffee with you tomorrow."

"Even if he was, he wouldn't mind." Sam shrugged. "Then we could talk in a less-" He tugged at his collar as he registered the heat accumulating in the elevator. "-stifling environment."

Jess glanced at the closed doors. "Think their figuring out how to get us out?"

An image of Dean yelling at anyone who could hear him, while technicians sat over a comedic tall pile of wires and hardware fumbling franticly came to mind. "My brother is a professional mother hen. Complete with fretting and sobbing if anything were to go wrong. I bet he's yelling at everyone right now, so yeah, someone's on it."

"That protective?" Jess shot up an eyebrow.

"It's kind of a long story." Sam rubbed at the back of his head. "I mean- a very long story."

Jess shrugged and pointed to their surroundings. "I have the time."

He told Jess about his mother dying, about his brother always watching over him while his father traveled as he _sold things a salesman_ (He wasn't going to say anything about the hunting). Then he got hurt, bad, while in one of the towns. His father was drunk and out of it and didn't act properly. When they went to stay with a friend while he recovered he ended up staying with his dad's friend, Uncle Bobby, after a misunderstanding. Later they were a family, with their father recovering. Dean remained a constant mother figure through everything. Jess injected questions every so often but for the most part she stayed riveted to his story and wondered what he wasn't mentioning.

"He sounds nice." Jess smiled.

"He'll try to portray himself as anything else, but yeah he's pretty nice." Sam chuckled. "Used to cut the crusts off my sandwiches."

"Aww." Jessica smirked and put a hand to her mouth. "That is way too adorable."

"What about you?" Sam smirked at her shocked expression. "I mean I just blurted my life story to you. So, what about yours?"

"Well, here's the story of a lovely lady who was bringing up three very lovely girls-" She smirked back at him when she realized the question.

Sam laughed. "No, seriously."

"Seriously." She brought her hands up in a defensive manor. "I was one of three. Middle child. All very blond pig-tailed, adorable dressed girls. And I loved it. My dad was Air Force, so like you it was a new town, new home, new school."

Sam nodded but didn't correct her in her assumption that the Winchester's definition of _move_ was the same.

"Never really made friends with people. Then he retired, and we ended up in sunny California. I was about 16 when he did. Mom was a nurse and she had quit to raise my sisters and I. She started working again once we settled in California." She looked up at the ceiling again. "I wanted to get into medicine like my mother so I worked my tail off in school, and here I am pre-med."

"Nice."

Jess got a little embarrassed. "Kinda boring."

"Nah, boring is pretty nice." Sam thunked his head back to the wall again. "You don't know how much I wanted the Brady Bunch and not Young and the Restless."

Jess studied Sam's expression. He wasn't lying, he'd only given her the cliff notes version of his life. Of course, she wasn't going to ask for an expansion on the story now, that would have to be saved for later. He'd gone through a lot. Maybe that was what she liked about him so much. He always had this sad expression. Always stuck to himself. On some level she could understand, and she wanted to break that barrier and meet the real Sam. "I don't know every detail, but I do know that not everything is perfect with normal. Before I went to school, mom got diagnosed with breast cancer. She's still fighting. Getting treatment, and I call to check up on her often."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Point is, that life isn't perfect for anyone. Yeah, maybe someone has it better, but then something comes along to derail it. My mom always says, life doesn't throw things at you, you cannot handle." Jess stated sagely.

Sam had been told that many times before. The phrase was beginning to stretch him a little thin. "Yeah I've heard that. Doesn't make it any better."

Jess laughed. "That's what I tell my mother, then she tells me that I need to suck it up and deal with it. That life doesn't get any easier. I need to fight and push for the surface, or drown in my sorrows."

"She sounds like a walking philosopher." Sam chuckled.

"Oh she is. She has a phrase for everything."

Jess opened her mouth to say something else when the lights flickered back on with a whirr. Sam stood defensively knowing that flickering lights could mean many things, and it was better to be prepared for whatever was going to happen. Rather than Jessica's eyes going black, or a sudden chill in the compartment, the elevator jostled again and started to move down. It was very sluggish but Sam inhaled in relief. He didn't have an aversion to tight spaces, but it had been getting a little too snug. The numbering on the elevator didn't show, and Sam wasn't sure what level they would stop at. Being a sluggish speed, Sam couldn't rely on his knowledge of how long it took to reach each level. He started to wonder where it would stop.

The elevator shuddered to a stop and they didn't open. There was a scratching and a bang from the thick door. The door started to widen inch by inch until Sam recognized a crowbar being wedged between them. The grunt of the effort was all too familiar.

"Sammy." The name was spoke loud and strained. "You better be in there."

"Sir we can-" As the door opened more Sam recognized the maintenance staff behind his brother trying to take over the situation. Surprise, surprise, Dean wasn't biting.

Dean's voice held a lot of irritation, but Sam sensed a level of panic that he had been unable to smoother. "I can do it."

"Dean-" Sam said loud enough to inform his brother that he was in fact there and okay. He added his own hands into the crevice and helped pull apart the doors with a grunt. Once they were about halfway there the springs did their job and the doors jolted apart.

Dean collected himself and tugged Sam through the doors pulling his brother in a hug. "Jesus. You said five freakin' minutes Sam. Not _hang on and let me get trapped in the freakin' elevator._ I swear you attract trouble worse than that Louis Lane chick."

"I get it." Sam squirmed in Dean's hold. "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting that." Sam glanced around and noticed they were in the basement. The ground was scattered with tools, and a panel next to the elevator was opened wide with wires halfway tugged out. Dean himself had shrugged out of his leather, and was now sweat stained and grease stained.

His brother finally released him and started tugging on his shirt. "You hurt anywhere?"

"No, I'm fine- Dean. Seriously Dean- I'm-" Sam tried swiping at the hands triaging but Dean won out. Sam's head swiveled around and he finally noticed that Jessica had stepped out of the elevator and was now watching the pair with a wide smile. He flushed and fought harder. "Dean- I'm fine. I just got a-"

"A bruise." Dean breathed. He grabbed Sam's head and turned it in all directions checking for bruising or any blood. Last, he looked into his brother's eyes and gauged that there was no sign of sluggishness. "And no concussion."

The maintenance crew went around the scene, set to check up the elevator and have it running perfectly again.

Finally, Sam was able to shove away his brother. "Let me go Dean. It was an elevator, not an alligator."

Dean frowned and looked like he was going to retort, but he stalled when he finally spotted Jessica. His eyebrows shot up and he gave her a suave smile. "And you were trapped in there; with her?"

"Yes." Sam shook his head at his brother and the suave smile dripped away, leaving a snarky one.

Sam had been trapped in the elevator with the hot blond, and he was into her. Sam was invoking his right to stop whatever moves his brother was planning on playing. He had called dibbs. His brother rarely did that, and Dean would let his brother have this one college girl.

Sam continued after clearing his throat to drive the concept further. "This is Jessica. She's in one of my classes."

"Uh, it's nice to meet you." Jess stuck out a hand and nodded towards the panel. "Did you-?"

"Fix it? Yeah, it was simple." Dean shrugged and shook her hand.

"Thanks. For that. That's amazing," Jess kept her smile polite.

Dean shrugged. "Nah, machines are easy. Sammy is the one with all the book smarts. Kids a freakin' genius."

"Yeah, he's like scary smart." Jessica flushed. She clenched the strap of her purse. "Well, I uh got some things to do, but tomorrow?"

"Um, yeah. You wanna say about eight?" Sam gave an awkward grin and rubbed at the back of his head, painfully aware his brother was in the room and his grin was wide. Dean always made things awkward, he tried not to bring his girlfriends over when he was in high school.

She responded instantly. "Yeah, we can walk over to the coffee shop. I can meet you outside the dorms."

"That sounds fantastic." Sam wanted to slap his brother. Now the giant kid was making kissy sounds. "Um, I'll see you later then."

"Yeah," She seemed more amused by Dean's commentary than anything else. "See you later."

She started up the stairs that would take her to the first floor. Sam followed her with his eyes about halfway and turned to smack his brother hard in the chest. "Geeze, you can't stop being you for a minute? I mean, seriously." Sam's face went bright red.

"Little Sammy. Playing the field. Picking up the chicks. I mean trapped in an elevator with a hot blond?" Dean motioned his hands down to gesture curves. "That only happens at the beginning of a porn."

Sam waited for Dean to reach down for his discarded jacket and keys. "And you would be the leading expert on that."

"Hey! It's not only entertaining but educational too." Dean gave his brother a wide grin. " _Aprendi todo mi espaniol de Casa Erotica._ "

"Pervert. Eres asqueroso. Personas mas sanas aprenden espanol en casa o en la escuela." Sam started towards the stairs knowing his brother was hot on his heels.

" _Perra_." Dean muttered under his breath. Kid wasn't leaving his sight today. Not after this.

He had been in a panic when the earthquake had shaken his car, but he'd given his little brother a few minutes to collect himself and head back out to say that everything was okay. After five minutes, Dean knew something had been wrong. Inside people had been sitting up from where they had fallen, and his brother was nowhere. When he'd been on auto-pilot and tried to call the elevator down, it hadn't moved. And Dean knew then his kid brother was trapped. For an hour, he'd raised hell getting someone over to work on it, then crouching down and working on it himself when they weren't getting it done quick enough. Now that his kid brother was okay, he could breath. Everything was okay.

Hell, everything was better than okay. Maybe now his brother would start doing some actual fun college stuff, now that he had a potential hot girlfriend.


	3. Room for One More

**(A/N: There are things different in this one. Its not straight up the same like the previous. ;D Last official post of the day. From here on. Weekly updates.)**

 **Unforeseen Future**

 **Chapter Three: Room for One more**

"No." Sam stated firmly. "He whirled around on his brother and threw him one of his iconic bitch faces. "I don't know why Dean even brought it up, but no. I'm not inviting you to Thanksgiving. If you want, we can have our own here."

Jess pulled a far superior bitch face to compete. "And why is that, Sam." She stamped her foot down. "Are you embarrassed by me? Do you NOT want me to meet your family?"

"They aren't family. They are just good friends of Bobby's."

Sam had been dating Jess now for a year. It had been pretty great. The only thing was she kept pressing the matter of his past. She seemed to understand he kept certain facts a secret, and kept coyly bringing up his history. Sam knew what she was trying at and would only anger her when he started to dance around the topic. Sam knew it stemmed from concern. She didn't want him to be afraid to admit things to him, but this was one thing he couldn't openly admit.

Dean had come by to visit, and with Thanksgiving a few days away he had brought up Bobby's annual celebration. Every year at Thanksgiving Bobby would host a meal at his place. He invited any hunter who was in the area and usually they would show. Good comforting home cooked meals were hard to come by in that business and they didn't turn it down. Only problem was Jessica had heard and asked if she could join. Her parents were going to visit her older sister and she'd be alone that Thanksgiving.

"Sam, anyone invited over to Thanksgiving is as good as family. And besides your father, and your uncle will be there. I would love to meet them." Jessica smiled and slid her hand into Sam's. "Didn't you say it was about time that I met the rest of your family?"

"Yes but-" She would hear about all the horror stories about the previous hunts. That's all Thanksgiving was anyways, just a perverse show of muscle. One hunter boasting about his hunt to another hunter. She'd get frightened and run. "All they do is talk about hunting game. That's what Bobby's friends do. They hunt _everything_. I would enjoy it myself if we could just have a quiet Thanksgiving to ourselves. I'd even make the turkey."

Jess didn't let it go. "My dad hunts, and I've seen enough deer heads pinned to the walls in lodges and his friend's homes. I can handle a few stories about hunting."

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead. "It's not the same."

"How is it not the same?" Her eyebrow curved upward. "Please tell me."

Sam looked to Dean for help but Dean shrugged. A while ago he'd insisted that Sam give Jessica the talk. The monsters-are-real talk. Sam had violently disagreed. But Dean had held strong. You couldn't be in a relationship based on lies. And Jess was a great girl, but if she couldn't handle that knowledge or didn't stick around afterwards, then she probably didn't need to be in his life.

"Jessica, it's- please don't-" He rubbed at his face.

"It's got to do with your past." Jess scowled. "I know your dad didn't sell things. Every time I ask you change the story. He sold vacuum cleaners. He sold insurance. You cannot get that story correct. I love you, Sam. Unless your dad is a serial killer with a pile of bodies following him, I don't care."

Sam looked to Dean and Dean raised his hands in surrender. This wasn't his battle. This was Sam's.

"You don't want to know, Jessica." Sam insisted. "Really you don't. I want to tell you but, you would think I was insane."

"Look, Winchester." Jessica pressed her finger into his chest. "I love you. Whatever you'd say I wouldn't think it was crazy."

Sam ran a hand through his hair. He didn't want to. This would test everything. He didn't know what to expect when he would enter the crazy discussion of the supernatural with his girlfriend. Between Dean and his girlfriend, he really didn't have a choice. Either he lost his girlfriend because she felt he didn't trust her, or he'd lose her because she thought he was crazy. He wasn't sure which one was worse. "Dean, can you…"

Dean stood up from the desk chair and smirked at his brother. "Call me if you need backup."

Sam shifted on the bed and turned his body to face his girlfriend. He didn't start until Dean had closed the door and left. "I do love you, Jessica." He rubbed her knuckles softly. "And your right, I've been lying a lot about my past. My dad didn't sell things, but we did move around a lot. If I tell you this, you have to hear me out. To the end. You can decide what you want to do in the end."

Jess nodded. She was getting a little worried. Sam was getting a little dramatic.

"My mother died when I was 6 months old. My dad heard her scream. He ran up the stairs to my crib, but by the time he'd gotten there she wasn't there. He looked up and she was pinned to the ceiling." Sam didn't miss the look of horror on his girlfriend's face. "Then fire shot out from around her body. We barely got out of the house. From there my dad learned that humans weren't alone in this world. That things that went bump in the night weren't just stories."

"Thing that go bump? You mean like- like monsters?" Sam was right. It was starting to sound a little crazy.

Sam sighed and shifted. "Yes. Ghosts, werewolves, vampires, and demons. Crazy as it sounds, are all very real. You know that death that can't be explained. Some guy in the middle of the city mauled by wild animals and left in an alley, missing a heart. Werewolf. Or woman found in an alley devoid of blood, and her neck ripped into." Sam paused. "Vampire. My dad travels from town to town and hunts down those creatures that would otherwise come after someone else. Dean does it too. When he's not under a car or woman, he's usually hunting."

"Have you- have you hunted?" She asked a little too slowly. "Have you seen these _things_?"

"Yes. I've gone on two hunts, but I decided a long time ago that's not what I wanted." Sam sighed and wrapped his fingers around hers. "That's another discussion though."

To be fair Jessica hadn't run away yet. She hadn't called him crazy or thrown something at him and ran off. He hadn't expected something like this to go over so well. "Why isn't this a well-known thing? I mean monsters running around killing people, you would think that would make front page news."

Sam shrugged. "People don't want to see it. They want to live in ignorance, or they just try to find _normal_ reasons that make sense. And it does make front page news, it just so happens that the newspapers that usually get it right-"

"Are made fun of." Jessica said softly. "You mean like those my-wife-gave-birth-to-an-alien newspapers?"

"Yeah, although, most of those stories are crazy. You have to shift through a few of them and read in-between the lines to find a case."

"So after your mom died, your dad dragged you and your brother around to hunt monsters. You're not just fooling with me, are you Winchester?"

"Look I want to keep you around, last thing I'd want to do is give you some crazy story to chase you away." Sam rubbed at the back of his head and looked down awkwardly. "And it is quite a crazy story, if you were to run. I wouldn't-"

Jessica shot a hand out and palmed his cheek. "Hey, I'm not running. I'm just a little confused, and angry." Sam got a confused expression himself. "I want you to trust me. I want to know that you feel like you can talk to me. I'm happy you've told me now but we've been dancing around this for a long time now. And I know it sounds a little out there, but I know you and it took a lot for you to tell me anything."

"You believe me?" Sam sounded shocked. He didn't think she'd still be there.

"I _trust_ you. I cannot stand here and for sure say that everything your saying is a load of crazy. Hell, I don't want to know about this other world. It seems much safer to assume that everything is- well normal. But, I get it. I can see where some stories could have something more behind it. In fact, there's just too much in this world that isn't defined." Jessica's fingers brushed away Sam's bangs. She ignored the stress sweat that had accumulated on his forehead.

Sam frowned. "How are you so okay with this?"

Jessica grinned wide. "Because I love you. And because you have awesome hair." She ran her hands through his soft hair and started to play with the tips of his ears. "And because we have really awesome study sessions."

Sam matched her grin. "Ms. Moore. I'm a gentleman."

There was a bang on the door. "Don't start this now." Dean's muffled voice came through the wood. "I'm starving and we were going to go out and eat."

Sam moved around Jess to call to his brother but she caught his mouth with her own and once she let him go he was breathless. Sam was unable to respond so Jessica did for him. "Why don't you go pick us up something Dean. Something about an hour or two away?"

From the other side of the door Dean could hear the sounds getting more intense inside. So, the discussion had gone well, it would have seemed. And for once in his life, he was the third wheel. Usually it was Sam standing awkwardly trying to find things to occupy himself while Dean was with a girl.

"Seriously." He gave one last look at the door before he threw up his hands and walked away keys in hand.

\--

Dean hadn't seen his brother this happy before. He'd had girlfriends in the past, but with Jessica, he was just so content with her. They would hold hands, and steal kisses. The best part was she knew, and she wasn't running. That lit a bit of hope up in Dean. His life didn't leave a lot of room for monogamy. He needed to be there for his father during hunts, for his brother during his _life_ , for Sonny at the shop. He was there for everyone, but himself. But maybe it was time. He could open himself up to the opportunity. He had a serious girlfriend once, one he _almost_ left home for. Maybe he could have someone in his life he cared about.

He failed immediately. One girl after another, in another town, another motel- it was a habit hard kicked. Got to a bar, drink, wait for someone to approach him (unless she was that worth it), and propose they go back to his place. After all, if she's approaching him- in a bar, what are the chances that she's looking to have six kids and a mortgage with him?

Each girl though he watched leave his bed and shimmy back on her lacey underwear he thought back to Sam and Jess. Sam's eyes as he introduced his girlfriend to everyone at Thanksgiving. The way they looked at each other and didn't say anything. Just that love-sick puppy dog eye shit. God sometimes the chick flick part of him wanted that. But he would let her go. Thoughts of- _She wasn't the right one_ , and actual literal demons in his brother's life prevented him from stopping her and inviting her to cuddle. She'd leave his motel, he'd pack up after the hunt to go home for another few days in the shop. Like Sam joked. He's not under a girl- he was under a car.

He was working the same tricks in Ohio. After a night of research, he opted for a night at a bar rather than sleep; and he was thankful too. That woman sitting at the bar was well worth the lack of sleep. No, she wasn't the one in the slinky black dress. Not the one giving him the direct sex eyes. She wasn't in the group of giggling girls who'd accidentally tripped and had to rub their hands along his muscled back to get back up. She was the one- alone at the bar, giving off distinct _piss off_ vibes. She wore skinny jeans and a 2 size too large hoodie boasting Ohio State. College student. Stressed out one at that- as she sank a second shot into her beer and took a long sip.

Forget hustling. His pockets were full enough and she looked like she needed a long therapy session from Dean Winchester.

"Get you a drink?" He offered smoothly as he took a stool next to her.

She threw him an irritated glance. Ran her hands through her dark hair before considering her options. Very clearly, she didn't want to play the game, but she was going to take the offer- maybe turn him down hard once he'd shelled out enough cash. Ohh, she'd be a fun one tonight. Fiery and maybe a touch rough.

"So long as you don't expect anything."

"Just a drink." Dean shrugged. "What harm can come from that?"

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the bar. "I'll have another of this- on him." She took another long drink. "And for your information, a lot of harm can come from a strange man at a bar. I've heard too many stories."

"You listen to too much news." Dean gripped the neck of his beer and his nail started to pick at the label.

"Not THE news, newspapers. And how am I supposed to become a journalist, if I don't read those?" She eyed Dean carefully, but looked back when the bartender had set down a shot and a glass of beer. "I've written a few horror stories myself. Girl at a bar, sleezy guy- you can fill in the blanks."

"You're obviously not that worried. You're still talking to me. Besides maybe I might make an interesting article for your school paper. What is Ohio State's Paper called anyways? Bet it's something lame." She may be acting disinterested but she had already looked him down once. She was doing it again, midway considering the pros and cons of a quickie with him when she stopped. Uh oh. She thought he was stalking her. Quick fix. Now. "Not creeping on you or anything, it's kind of printed on your chest."

She glanced down at the hoodie, and reading the letters she went a bit pink. "Oh, it is." She smoothed down the logo before turning to Dean again. "Sorry, long night. Some shitty partners on a group thing, and I'm just a little-"

"Stressed?"

"That obvious?" She asked.

"Just a bit." Dean smirked. He drank down a long sip, and waved at the bartender for another bottled beer. "I get it. Wanted to kill my fair share of people in college. I don't get why they are there if they're there if they don't want to work."

Dean was starting to wonder if this was going to the bedroom at some point. He wasn't playing a con. He wasn't the FBI agent and he would offer the girl protective custody for the night. He wasn't small time director and trying to give a girl a chance at the big time. He was being- himself. What the fuck? He had to up his game.

She glanced at him for a second. Not oogled the chest, or his crotch. She looked him in the eyes and really thought for a second. "Where did you go to school?"

"Nowhere you'd know. South East Technical- community." Dean shrugged, but that was lame. Pick up line quick. "Gave me a license to get under peoples hoods though." Followed by an eye waggle. Wasn't going to get her wet, but good enough.

Or not. She laughed at him. "Couldn't come up with anything better."

"Honey, one or two more of those-" He gestured her drink. "-and I'll be the funniest guy here."

Another eye roll. Oh no mission failing.

"I don't get you." She did that thing again. She looked him in the eyes for a long time as if peering into his soul.

He didn't like that at all. Why did he have to go for obviously too smart for her own good, _piss off_ chick? He could have gone for sex eyes. Hell, he didn't have to talk to her, all he had to do was put her over his shoulder and take him to the bathroom. Internal Dean was screaming to abort mission, but little Dean was too determined to let this one go.

"You don't get what?"

"You are a very smart person." She ignored his puff of indignance. "Community college or not, I can tell. Journalist. Part of my job is to read people, and you- are smart. You also don't take good care of yourself. I think you put yourself behind everyone else in your life. Probably why the community college."

Crap this chick a mind reader?

"And yet here you are, at this bar looking for some easy tail. I'd think you'd be much more soulful."

What the fuck did this chick know about his life though. Sure, anyone can guess a few things about another person. But you don't just know someone by their appearance. Chick was nuts. He'd go after sexy eyes after all. Except. Little Dean persisted. Something about this woman- this irritating woman- was getting to him. He'd get her in bed, give her the best mind-blowing sex, and she'd see how soulful he could be.

"Rewinding after a long day isn't a crime you know." Dean raised an eyebrow. "I mean maybe you cover bigger crimes like murder and very clearly rape, but last I check there was no attack on casual sex in the papers."

"Oh, I have nothing wrong with casual sex, but your cheesy lines would work better on Christina over there. She's been eyeing you this whole time, and trust me it wouldn't take more than an eye bat to get her panties wet."

"You are irritating." Dean didn't mean to, but it came out as a growl.

She grinned up at him. Messed up chick was happy at how ticked off he was. "And you're a man whore."

"You know what, you aren't worth the time."

"Glad we came up with that agreement."

\--

Dean exhaled a breath and pulled himself slowly out of the woman beneath him. He landed next to her on the bed panting from their mind-blowing session. A casual glance at the beside clock read that they had been at it for a long time now. God, she was amazing. Fiery and rough- and smart.

He looked over at the woman. Her hair was splayed on the pillow, and her face was as flush as his- and there had never been a better sight.

The argument at the bar had led into a debate. Which had led into another argument. All the while they were drinking one thing after another. Then he'd said it. He'd offended her sex making. He didn't mean it to lead her to bed. He was just genuinely irritated. But she was equally competitive as he was and oh was the arguing worth it. Maybe it was the hormones, or the beer, but this was really one of the best sex that he'd had. Ever.

She glanced over at Dean. A coy smile on her face. "So-"

"I'll admit it." Dean inhaled again. Man was he out of breath. "You certainly gave me a work out."

"Damn right."

Her hand gripped the sheet, and moved it away from her body. And she- wait. She was leaving. Her body went vertical and her feet touched the carpet. Something in Dean snapped. The sex was over, but where did she think she was going? His hand without thought shot out and gripped her arm before she could stand and find her discarded clothing. She looked back at him surprised.

"Where are you going?"

She only offered him a snort and a raised eyebrow. "You come off as the one night stand kind of guy. I get it. I wasn't expecting more."

"I didn't say it wasn't going to last any more than one night." Dean grumbled. If he wasn't already flush, he would have gone red. Meanwhile she looked mad. "But what's to say you couldn't stay over."

"The sex is done." She was ready to run.

"No, Cassie, look. No more sex, just stay in bed with me."

She would have fallen in surprise if she hadn't been sitting. "You mean cuddle? You don't strike me as a cuddler."

"I'm not." Dean's hand stroked up and down her arm. And he didn't ignore the hairs that rose underneath his touch.

She looked at him again, with her soul-searching eyes. A gentle smile crossed her lips and she lifted the sheet again and got back under. "Just for tonight."

"Just for tonight." Dean confirmed. His arms circled her middle and he drew her closer to him. God even her smell was tantalizing.

He'd surprised Cassie, and himself, again when the alarm had gone off at 8 am and he suggested breakfast. She said yes, and they both went to a diner in their rumpled clothing. She kept amazing him with the conversation, with the breakfast itself. She ordered a grease filled plate and finished it. Ok so maybe soul mates were a thing. He'd never been so close to considering it before.

She suggested meeting up again- while he was in town. Dean agreed. Quickly. And that's how they ended up mini-golfing, arguing, and having more mind-blowing sex. She had school, and he had work though. So, the time they spent together became limited. Then to the misfortune of little Dean, the job was done. Sonny was expecting him at work in a few days, and he couldn't sit around there anymore yucking it up and having sex with this perfect woman.

He hadn't done this before. He'd gone for the blond bimbo. And Cassie Robinson was the woman who debated politics, talked about wars and mentioned actual dates, and names. She couldn't slip through his fingers. Not just because he happened to be leaving.

The phone rang a few times before she picked up. She immediately laughed into the line. His heart clenched. _"Slow your roll Dean. I'm still trying to recover."_

"Not that I wouldn't like an instant replay, but I actually have to talk to you." He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Can you meet up with me a second and-"

" _Your leaving town_?" Cassie caught him. That's what happened when you got into it with a woman looking for a freaking Masters in reading human emotions and writing about them.

"I am finished with my business in town. Yes."

Her voice went ridged over the line. She'd known this was coming. Dean was a free spirit. She'd known the second she'd laid eyes on him. She'd known he'd leave every blissful second of that week. _"Ok, thanks for letting me know."_

"Ohh hey! Wait." Dean stopped her from hanging up. She wasn't talking to him, but she was still there and waiting. And there was his father. Standing next to the Impala, pretending to be preoccupied, but hanging on every word. Screw it. "I don't want this to be over."

Crap his dad was smirking. Not looking at him necessarily but smirking.

Dean gritted his teeth and continued. "Look no lines, no cons, and no plays. I really enjoyed spending time with you. _All_ the time I spent with you, and I think that maybe- my work might take me through every now and again…"

She was laughing again. _"Every now and again?"_

"Look don't make this harder than it needs to be." And it was tough. What did you say in this situation? Dean called back every cliché movie his brother had made him see.

" _Let's say I say, yes. What does this make us?"_

"Together- Complicated. Look I don't know what to do in this situation. And- I frankly don't know what to call it."

She was quiet. For a long time. _"Other women?"_

"Honey, after you- there isn't anyone that can top you." Dean stated boldly.

She didn't hesitate this time. _"I'll give it a go. Call me when you're in town."_

Dean grinned wide. "What if I'm not and I call you."

"I may pick up." She stated coyly. "And I may not."

Then Dial tone.

She'd hung up on him, and all he could do was grin wider.

"You coming? Or have you not been whipped enough?" John leaned over the top of the Impala amusement reading clearly on his face. Oh yeah, his dad had been there. For all of it. Shit.

"Shut up."

 **(A/N: Enjoyed it- leave a review and give me some love. You notice something off- please tell me. Its just me and despite how many times I read through these I find mistakes after posting. Thanks.)**


	4. Woman In White

**(Okay, there is a change- a very big change from what I originally wrote. I debated on this many, many times- and bothered my friends because I wasn't sure if the change would be- welcomed. But there it is... enjoy)**

 **Unforeseen Future**

 **Chapter Four: Woman in White**

Sam had gotten the call early in the morning. Reluctantly he opened his eyes, released his arms from around his girlfriend, and he rolled over to smash his hand around for his phone. After a few failed seconds, he groaned and rolled over to girlfriend pressing his nose into her hair. He nuzzled her neck before groaning.

"I can't tell if that's mine- or yours."

"Yours." She muttered. She gave a happy groan as Sam nipped hungrily at her neck. "Mmmm- Stop- Stoooppp." She giggled and moved away from him. "Yours gives off the obnoxious chirp."

"I thought yours chirped." Sam breathed.

She rolled over and as an act of revenge nipped at her boyfriend's ear. "Mine doesn't. For someone so smart, you certainly don't wake up that way."

Another nip, and Sam thought maybe picking up the phone was a bad idea. Maybe there was a better one. "Maybe you should help me wake up."

"Those are the shots speaking." Jessica gave a roused laugh though. Oh, she was considering it. "Besides you should probably get the phone- it's more than likely your mother."

Sam wrinkled his nose but obeyed Jessica's movements as her lips went lower to his neck. His head tilted just so. "You mean brother?"

"No, I mean overbearing maternal big brother. The one that cuts crusts off your sandwiches and wipes smutz off your face." She stopped kissing and biting and gave her boyfriend a knowing look. "You don't pick up the phone and the whole of collective power of California's police departments are going to come check on you."

Sure, enough the phone stopped ringing. They both paused and it started up again.

"See, just get it."

Sam groaned. "Where?"

"I don't remember…you're the one who put it down last night." Jess sat up and attempted to smooth her hair. Why did she always feel so self-conscious in the morning? Didn't she know she was beautiful every second of every day? "Unless Brady's constant shots got them lost for you."

His hand finally hit plastic under his pillow. Duh. "You are no help."

He contained an unmanly squeal when a soft hand gripped his crotch and squeezed. "I can help you after the call."

"I'll have to remember that." Crap. Only she could get him breathless. He cleared his throat a few times and collected his breath before picking up the call. "What Dean? It's five in the morning and I swear you better be bleeding out."

" _Please."_ Dean scoffed softly. That pricked Sam's interest. Why was Dean intent on being quiet? He certainly didn't care any other time. _"We used to get up earlier than this. Remember dad's drills? Late night camping trips."_

"Yeah, if you mean dumping our asses in the middle of the woods and giving us a compass and using the stars. Camping trips sure." Sam was unamused. And aroused. Jess kept playing with his hair. "That was a long time ago anyways, so what do you need now?"

" _Can't a big brother just call to say hello?"_

It wasn't a friendly call though. Due to the hour, and the tone his brother had. "It's not just a check-up? Is it though?"

" _Ok, ok. You got me. I need some help."_

"Help that requires you to call me at five in the morning? After my LSAT celebrations? A lot of alcohol was poured, brother. A LOT." Sam heard shuffling from the other end. Quiet shuffling. Was he sneaking around? "So, you on the run from the police? Cursed? On the run from the dads?"

" _I'll talk to you when I see you."_ Dean was clearly humored. By what. By waking him up so early in the morning? Sadist…

"So, tell me when your done being hush hush, and sneaking around- wherever you are. Call me when you get here."

A deep chuckle echoed from down the hall and Sam and Jess whipped their heads _to_ the direction of the sound.

"Okay. I'm here."

The shadow of his brother came closer and his footsteps were suddenly thumping and obvious. Of course, his obnoxious big brother has to use a freaking window to sneak in. It wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Piss off Dean." Jess scowled from the bed and pulled up the sheets to cover her Smurfs night shirt. "You heard of ringing a doorbell?"

Dean laughed. "Then I wouldn't get such an amusing reaction from my little precious brother- and his way too hot girlfriend."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You and your amusing sense of humor. For the sake of my evening lets talk." He patted his girlfriend's shoulders before dangling his legs off the side of the bed. Sleep drifted away as training from decades before activated. He remembered having buckets of cold water poured over him if he got out of bed too slow. He learned from an early age to fight off sleep. It usually helped with late evenings of studying and early mornings with tests. That and coffee.

He put his feet on the ground and caught his balance as he stood up. Once he was okay he tugged on pajama bottoms over his boxers and followed his brother out of the room. "Keep the bed warm for me."

Jess watched him as he exited the room. "Hurry back."

"You guys didn't party that hard. You seem to have woken up just fine." Dean quipped as they entered the living room.

Sam stopped by the couch and Dean continued to the kitchen. The younger Winchester waited for his brother to return, sure enough with an opened beer. Sam wanted to gag at the sight. "Brady got a little too excited and kept ordering shots. At some point, we stopped. Thank goodness. Although I'll swear off alcohol for a little bit." He ignored his big brother's eye roll. "Whatever, what do you want?"

"Well I have a kind of -weird- request."

Sam rubbed at his crazy standing up hair, only to make it worse. "How weird?"

"I wouldn't mind a little help on a hunt." Dean said quietly. He took a seat on his brother's scratched up couch, and looked up at the big kid. He looked surprised at the request himself.

"Like information help- or-"

"I need help _on a_ hunt."

"As back up? You know I haven't hunted since I was twelve, dude. I may be well versed on the weapons and the monsters, but I'm more like your Oracle than your side kick." Sam crossed his arms.

"The Oracle," Dean tipped the lip of the bottle towards his brother dramatically. "-is way hotter than you. Barbara Gordon is the reason I love a good red head."

"And brunettes, and blonds, and-"

"Anyways! Dad thought that since I've sworn off other women for the time being, he'd give me a hunt- close to you." Dean thought about it. His dad was a conniving thing. Knew he'd go to little bro for help. He hated it when his dad knew things before he did. "The only problem is it's a woman in white- and I don't think she's going to ignore my previous entanglements."

Sam laughed. Woman in White? He put together his father's devious plot as well and couldn't stay mad at his father for putting the plan together. It might work. Sam stayed pretty loyal to the women in his life. "Worried your track record will get you killed?"

"Take this seriously." Dean moaned.

"I am. As serious as a five-o-clock wake-up call will allow me to be." Sam smirked. "I want to help, but you know I have that interview."

"I'm aware of the time frame. We have enough time to go smoke La Llorona in Jericho. I just need Mr. Commitment at my side in case the bitch wants a bite. Then you can kill mockingbirds in court. That is what that movie is about- right?"

"You know it isn't- and it was a book first." Sam rolled his eyes. "Where is dad in all this planning?"

"Picked up signs in Florida. He's convinced its _him_ and told me he was going- _alone_." Dean stated, taking a deep drink after. He held up his hands when Sam's face scrunched up in blatant anger. "I said everything your about to say. So, don't bother. Old man wants to go off on his own- not a damn force in the world can stop it."

Dean had said everything. _It wasn't just his battle. They should be involved no matter what the danger. He needed to stop being a stupid self-sacrificing moron._ Nothing had stopped his old man. Not that he had expected it to.

"His phone is probably off anyways. I couldn't complain to him if I wanted to." Sam rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah, I guess I'll come along. I'll be rusty- but I'll be your Mr. Commitment."

"That's ok. I just need the back up on this one. I really don't think Constance is going to be a big fan of me and my lifestyle. Or Bobby's- or Dad's." It was pretty well known between the brother's that Bobby wasn't lacking in action. He had a few casual partners (other female hunters) that would show up every now and again for info, and end up staying the night. And his dad- his dad was about as bad as Dean. The old man had been picking up women far longer.

Sam glanced towards the closed door. "Let me talk to Jessica. I'm assuming you need to head out now…"

"Preferably."

Sam padded a little away from his brother and glanced absently towards his shared room before he turned back. "You sure this is something we need to take care of- now? We can't wait a few days- or take Jess…I mean she knows about this stuff."

"This chick has taken a lot of guys over the years. Preferably we deal with him now." Dean raised an eyebrow surprised by his brother's request. "And you can't take her with us. As inexperienced as you are- she won't know what to do. You really want to put her in that position?"

Sam seemed thoughtful, his eyes roving back to the door. "No- no. It's okay. It shouldn't- No it's fine."

"Sam, if something is wrong…" Dean hated the look his brother wore. It was worry, and it was causing Dean to worry.

His brother's expressions softened. But the worry didn't subside. "No, nothing is wrong. Give me a little."

Dean remained on the couch while his brother went into the bedroom.

 **DIVIDE (because its not saving my divides)**

"Wait- hang on, Tiger." Jess grabbed for her boyfriend's hand as he packed up a few articles of clothing and some toiletries. "Just slow down a second and let me absorb all this."

"Look, just be careful and don't allow any strangers in the apartment. Wear that charm I made you. Make sure your safe while I'm gone." Sam met his girlfriend's eyes and rubbed her knuckles. "You know I worry about you."

"And you know I always look out for myself." Jessica dragged down Sam's arm and finally caught his drifting attention. "Look at me. You are going on a hunt with your brother- You HATE hunting. With a passion. And if I can recall the first time you went on a hunt it didn't end so well."

Sam sat on the bed. "Jess, he's going after a woman in white."

"Yeeeaahhh-"

Sam expanded. "A woman in white is a spirit who in life found out that her spouse was cheating on her, in anger she usually kills her kids, unless they are killed by the other man, and always commits suicide after. She goes after one of two things. Cheating men or Children."

"And Dean doesn't exactly have a good reputation…" She was starting to get it. "I take it there aren't very many hunters with monogamous relationships."

"A lot of one-night stands…some broken hearts." Sam offered awkwardly. "That's why-"

Jess grinned and dragged down Sam's head. "He needs his oh so attractive and loyal brother." She cut off his next words with a kiss. "I get it big guy, I just can't help but get nervous that you're going to be a little over your head. I mean he'll be watching your back, and you can certainly defend yourself; but it's been a while."

"I would be lying if I didn't say I was nervous as well. In theory, it should be easy though. We need to find out where she's buried, and just burn her bones. It should be over after that." Sam lifted his hand to run a hand through her hair.

"And in practice." The motion had her a little breathless. Maybe she could ask Dean to give them an hour.

Sam smirked, reading her want. "I can't say. Hunting is kind of like real life, I don't know if I'm going to slip on a puddle and crack my head open, or win the lottery. We gotta deal with the punches as they come."

"Not filling me with a whole lot of confidence." Jess trailed a hand down Sam's chest. "But suppose I can offer you an incentive to come home in one piece."

Sam's smirk widened. "Oh, can you."

Jess pushed herself up to reach Sam's ear and started to whisper. Sam's casual grin turned more aroused the more she spoke. When she finished she planted a kiss just beneath his hear. "Does that sound fair to you?"

"Sounds more than fair." Sam pulled her up for another kiss. "I won't be gone that long, and I'll be home well in time for the interview. I still want you to watch out for yourself. Lock the door behind you. Draw a line of salt across the windows and doors, and those mats with the devil's traps-"

"By the door." Jessica dutifully finished. She brushed a strand of his hair out of his eyes. "What's got you so spooked, big guy?"

Sam turned his head away. "Nothing."

"Sam, you don't need to hide anything from me." Jessica soothed. "You gotta talk to me if something is bothering you."

Sam had been going down a rabbit hole the last couple of months. He was chugging coffee and energy drinks. She had chalked it to stress about the LSAT. But the headache medication concerned her. For the few years she'd known him, she'd never seen him suffer anything beyond an occasional stomach ache or hangover.

Then he was reading the paper more. But he wasn't reading the paper, he was inspecting it. For what she wasn't sure. She'd read through the pages he'd paled as he flipped through- and saw nothing. The same articles about politics and murders. She'd assumed it was because he was a hunter and always assumed the worst in _normal_ news stories- but then again, she'd been too afraid to ask.

"I'll talk to you once I get back. I don't think anything is going to be wrong. It's been to long since-" Sam bit at his lip. "We'll talk when I get back. It's too much." He bent down but didn't take her in a kiss. He pressed his forehead to hers his eyes traveling across her face, as if memorizing every inch- every pore. "Just stay safe- do everything I said- For me." The last part was punctuated with a kiss.

 **DIVIDE (because its not saving my divides)**

It had been a few days that they'd been gone. Much longer than they'd planned. Complications had arisen that extended the _easy_ hunt. Dean being arrested, Sam being targeted and forced on- and the worst- Sam driving Baby into the house. Granted it was rotten wood, and it didn't do the girl too much Damage, he would have punched Sam. If he didn't already have five holes in his chest from the Constance bitch.

Dean imagined Jessica would give him the same speech he'd given Sam about Baby; taking care of nice things.

"Think she'll kill me?" Dean asked casually as he killed the engine.

"Nah dude. Just to be safe though, I'll keep my wincing to a minimum." Sam laughed. "At least until you leave. This is a game changer. You don't know what I can get from the sympathy."

"Oh, I know what you can get from sympathy." Dean smirked.

Sam gave a laugh and gripped the car door. Unconsciously both brothers opened the door and slid out at the same time. Sam paused long enough to duck in and dig out two doufles. His big brother's and his own. Dean didn't even give a grunt when Sam tossed the doufle at him. Just griped at Sam to lock the door and they both walked up the way to the building, and turned back when he heard his brother curse sharply. "Dude I got to check in with, dad."

"He traded Florida, for woods; off hunting a wendigo right now. No way in hell he has cell reception. And no way he even picks up the phone even with service." Sam scoffed lightly.

Dean waved a hand wearing an unamused expression. "Yeah and he still busts my balls for not checking in before and after hunts. I mean I'm twenty-six, dude, not five."

"Whatever." Sam chuckled. "Come up when you're finished. I'm sure Jess made cookies."

"You wouldn't know. She didn't tell your whipped ass through all the phone calls you took from her. It's like you two are attached at the hip." Dean dialed his dad's number and pressed send.

"Okay, A- I am not whipped. And B- I give you a year before you start being overly sappy with Cassie. She's going to graduate- and you, my commitment-phobe brother, will find she wants much more than a booty call and date whenever you drive into town." Sam grinned. He opened the door and paused to make a point. "Then we'll see who is whipped."

Dean yelled back some rebuttal, but the door had already shut and Sam wasn't listening. He started up the stairs taking them two at a time.

Jess had seemed a bit quiet over the phone. Sam had chalked that up to his absence. They were in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, Dean would regularly joke, and when they were one without the other it just felt- wrong. He'd felt off without her those few days too.

The weight in his pants pocket seemed quite heavy despite just how light it actually was. He was planning to do something special. Propose in fact. He was waiting for the perfect time, the right romantic setting. But coming home victorious after a hunt, was making him swelling not only pride- but eagerness at keeping this woman by his side. Maybe he shouldn't save it, maybe if she missed him as much as he missed her, he should just give her the ring now.

At the door to the apartment he dragged out the keys and fumbled with them a second before opening the door. "Jess!"

Nothing was out of place, a line of salt sat by the door (disturbed by him unfortunately- he'd fix it) and the mat still sat in its place. He was glad she'd actually taken the precaution. When he'd pushed through the beads over the bedroom doorway he'd heard it- the shower was running.

"Hey Jess."

For a few seconds, he didn't get a response. But a second later Jessica pushed the curtain back a second and poked her head out. "Oh- I didn't hear you come in."

Sam took the time to step into the open bathroom and give her a quick kiss. "We just got back. I offered Dean the couch seeing as it's kind of late for him to start driving back. I hope you don't mind."

"No. Not at all." She pulled Sam in for another quick kiss before whipping back the curtain and stepping back under the spray. "I made cookies. They're on the table."

Sam grinned wide. "I'll go inhale a few. I'm closing the door. I don't trust, Dean."

"He knows what's good for him he won't peek."

"The moves I showed you, he'll regret it for sure." Sam chuckled and closed the door behind him on the way out. On the way to the living room he grabbed

Dean was inside by the time Sam had exited the bathroom and entered the living room. Sam didn't ask him how the call went- because it hadn't gone anywhere. It had gone straight to voicemail.

His big brother thrust a thumb towards the miniature open kitchen. The question came out during his walk towards it. "You think your girl restocked the fridge?"

"You mean the beer? Seeing as you took the last one." Sam smirked at his brother and shook his head. "Not after the night we had. She wouldn't have-"

"Got one!" Dean triumphantly rose a beer in the air. Then promptly whistled. "Your girl has taste. Strong and dark, the way I like it."

"What?" Sam spun to look at his brother. "That's got to be for you. No way she drinks that stuff."

Dean shook his head. "She got a box- and half of its gone dude." He chuckled at Sam's confused expression. "What? Angry she didn't include you?" Dean's amusement died down the second that Sam started rushing to the windows checking each one. "Hey, you okay?"

"This isn't right. A few nights ago, she gagged when she tried one of Brady's drinks. She hated the stuff. No way she gains a taste for it in a few days." Sam rushed on to the next window after seeing the salt hadn't been disturbed. There were only two more and Sam praying hard went to the second in the living room.

"So, she drank something weird…big deal."

"No- big deal. She'll down a beer, but if she's buying anything for herself it's that fruity shit." Sam shook his head at the second window. Nothing disturbed there. That only left the bedroom. Could he check without alerting her- or if it was her.

Dean caught Sam on the way to the bedroom. "Wait- wait. What are you saying?"

"Geeze, you are the dumb one, aren't you?" Jessica sauntered out wearing nothing but a robe. Her wet hair had been bundled up to the top of her head. She paused long enough to glance at the boys, her eyes going black. "I should have stomached the apple ale."

Dean rushed forward fumbling for any weapon on his person, and Sam went back towards the kitchen bending to reach a cabinet.

Jessica sighed and lifted a hand. "Oh please-" And Sam was thrown back over the counter and into the living room. Dean slammed hard into the wall just above the table, his hands trapped at his sides. "As if I would let you get a weapon. And let you go for the holy water and salt. That's right lover boy- I checked."

She kept a hand up and sauntered to Sam allowing leg to slip through the robe. "Hello Sam."

"Get the fuck out of her." Sam bellowed. He pushed up from his spot on the ground.

"Why?" _Jess_ feigned innocence for a split second, until her face morphed into an ugly sneer. "You think that my boss, was going to let you live your god-damn happily ever after? I warned you at Jared's not to do it. And your sorry little pussy whipped ass went and got the ring. What you think that you were going to go off and find that white picket fence house- have a few kids, maybe even a dog. Not in the plan, so we can't have that happen."

Sam glanced at the ground a second, to not only get his girlfriend's twisted face out of his vision, but think. "Brady- I went with Brady to get the engagement ring. And he told me- you've been in Brady?"

Jessica bent down and forced Sam's head up. She ignored Dean's indignant burst and stared point blank into Sam's eyes. "Ooohhh good job. Johnny tell the man what he's won!" Jess's hands tightened and Sam grunted. "Remember when I- sorry I had a recent change- HE came back from the break up all messed up? I mean dropped out of pre-med, the drugs, the bitches? That was the new Brady. That was me. Boss Man wanted someone on the ground with you keep you from getting soft."

"You son of a bitch. Where's Brady?" Sam's voice darkened to a dangerous level. It even frightened Dean.

"Brady is currently in a little pile of blood. Slit his wrists in his room. Wonder what his roommate will think when he finds him. Oh well. He was past his use." Jessica cocked her head. "I'm surprised you haven't attacked. Oh wait- no I'm not. Is this-" Jess tore at her breasts. "-is this fine piece of ass worth not bruising?"

Sam clenched his teeth. God, he was rusty. The words to the banishment was slipping. He wasn't sure if it was the stress, or the time, but a single line was missing from his memory- and it wouldn't work without. "Look. I won't propose. I'll leave her- and it'll be nasty- just get out of her please."

"No can do. This woman is the reason you were turning into a mild mannered, worthless sack of piss." Jessica sprayed him as she emphasized the s's on the end. Sam didn't turn his head though. "Now come on. We cannot have that. There is a time table buddy- and we cannot afford to play around."

Sam glared. "What plan?"

Jess shook her head. "As if I'm letting that go now. You must be dumber than-" Jess started twitching, and shaking.

" _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas."_ Dean's voice was loud and confident.

"STOPP!" Jess screamed her voice seeming to shake the walls. Her hand shot out and Dean's exorcism choked off as he fought for air.

" _Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis-"_ Sam continued for his brother. He hoped by the time he came to the forgotten line then his brother would have refilled his lungs.

"You irritating scum!" Jess gave out a loud cry and Dean's head whipped against the wall, his eyes rolling back as he was released from his hold and ragdolling to the ground. Sam felt his tongue stiffen and his own body was forced back to the wall. Unable to say much he glared at the demon operating his girlfriend. "You had to make things difficult- well this is how the story ends. You fail. And when you wake up- I would have shattered your world."

Jess stepped back and grabbed a clean pan from the stove. Sam could only watch as she swung it towards him.

 **(A/N: My writing is limited to me- nobody reads through and corrects me. Sooooo you notice something off with spelling or continuity, please tell me. I will fix it- after I'm done procrastinating a bit- and appreciate it. Really I want to improve, and improvement doesn't come with me being ignorant to my own faults. Lovvvee ya.)**


	5. Destroyed Future

**(So two notes. I know some people like the concept of Jessica being alive and hunting with Sam, but I am a firm believer that she had to die in my universe. It sets things off. Gives characters motives. Answers questions even. Second note, to those who read through the first version- the death has changed. She originally died just like in the show on the ceiling on fire. I asked people dozens of questions- those who did or didn't watch the show- and in each case they seemed to like the idea, so I did it. Still nervous on the new death- and it made me have to change out small details.)**

 **Unforeseen Future**

 **Chapter Five: Destroyed Future**

The apartment was noisy. Sam was confused. He didn't have a party going. Since meeting Jessica they'd slowed that part of their lives down. And yet there was static as if there was a radio, and people talking- and hands on him. And-

" _Let me go-"_

Dean?

" _I swear, you will be missing a few limbs if you don't let me go to him."_

Dean sounded mad. What was Dean doing here anyways? On his cheeks, moving his head gently. Patting them a minute later. _"Hey, hey- come on wake up buddy."_ There was another pat. _"There is a lot of blood, and I need to see some eyes, Sam. God, a lot of blood. NO- no you're okay."_

" _Sir- we need to-"_

" _Go sit on a tack, lady."_ Another pat. _"Come on. I need to know you can still be an obnoxious prick- you still gotta be you, Sam."_ This time no pat. But his body did vibrate as there was a shake. _"Come on- just wake up, Sam."_

Against better wishes Sam opened his eyes slowly adjusting his sight to the light. The world was spinning, and painful.

"Hey- hey. There you are little bro. You still remember the alphabet? Who's the lead singer in Metallica?" Dean kept a grip on Sam's cheeks. His big brother's eyes kept staring deeply into Sam's.

"James Het- Hetfield." Sam grunted. Sam finally focused and really looked at Dean. There was a slow trickle of blood coming from Dean's neck. Why was Dean bleeding? Why was his world so fuzzy? "D'd I go drinking 'gain?"

Dean let off a low chuckle, but there was nothing but worry in his eyes. "No, you didn't go drinking." Big brother coughed and tried to clear something from his throat. "You don't remember last night?"

"No." Sam went to wet his lips, but his tongue had no moisture. He hadn't tried to be obvious, but maybe he was, because Dean looked back and pointed towards the cabinet with cups, and the sink demanding some water. Paramedics looked irritated, but with the impenetrate wall of Dean they couldn't get to their patient. "Remind me."

Dean's attention swayed from the sluggish movement of his brother's eyes to the status of his water. "We got home from our road trip and-" Dean hesitated.

"Road trip? We did-" Sam stopped. The hunt. Woman in white. Cookies- Jess! Sam's hand came up and closed over Dean's arm. "Jessica? She here?"

"Sir. We should take a look at your brother." The woman paramedic was trying to say kindly, despite the bulging vein. She handed down a cup of water. It was in a large plastic cup from Jessica's favorite pizza joint. They went there last week.

Another paramedic, man, came up behind her. "This is ridiculous Tom, get me a sedative. These two both need to be on route already."

"I need to tell him. He can't hear it from anyone else. So just give me a god damn minute." Both paramedics stilled at Dean's request. Big Brother took this as an all clear, and focused back on his baby brother. He gently tipped the cup back and gave Sam some water.

"Tell me what?" Sam was starting to panic. "Where is she? She's okay- right?"

Dean ran a comforting hand in his brother's hair after putting the cup down. "Look- she- after we got attacked she went to Wilbur Field and-"

"And what?" When Dean didn't continue. Sam's hand tightened on his brother's arm. Dean winced at the hold, but Sam didn't care. "-and what?!"

There was no good way to tell him. "She's dead Sam. She stabbed herself, and bled out. They found her this morning."

"No. No." Sam released Dean. His world started spinning faster. "No. No. No. Your lying."

"Sam. Please calm down. You're going to work yourself up."

How could he tell Sam to calm down? Jessica was- Jessica was dead, and it was his fault. He should have told her to stay away. Broken it off before they became anything. Having her mad and with a broken heart was much better than having her dead.

Someone was crying. Loud sobs and wails. It took Sam a little to figure out that it was him.

Dean had him pressed against him instantly running soothing fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry."

 **WHYNOSAVEDIVIDES**

The lump on the bed wasn't moving with the exception of the rise and fall of breathing. As much as Dean was thankful the lump was breathing he wished it would do a little more. Like talk, laugh, move, maybe even eat some solid food.

The lump, aka Sam Winchester, had spoken little in the hospital. He'd answer simple questions. Does this hurt? Are you hungry? Can you move for me? And they were all limited to _yes_ and _no._ No sentences, no dumb facts that his brother would sometimes spout, just yes and no. When he'd signed out his brother, the hospital hadn't want him to go. Further testing they said. Psychiatric ward they'd said. Hell no. No way his too smart for his own good brother sat in a padded room.

The police had bought it. The story of how Jessica had surprised them. Hit Sam over the head, and given Dean a hard hit when they'd tried to stop her on her way out. The brothers had been whipped by a girl- a suicidal girl – but Sam didn't get hauled into jail. Besides Sam was the right amount of shock and catatonic.

Task one and two had been complete. Have Sam heal, one, and keep Sam from wearing orange or stripes, two. Three was going to be much harder. Three was going to be difficult, but Dean wouldn't miss that step for the world. Step three was to bring Sam back from wherever his mind was. Help him cope with the loss, of a loved girlfriend- a future fiancé, wife, mother.

He'd already started that. He'd started that two days ago. Brought the big kid to a motel nearby and parked him in the bed. Kept talking to him. Shifting him to the bathroom to use the toilet or slowly rub soap over himself. Then try and get him to eat and drink. Water was fine. Water was kept down, but food- any kind of food was chunked back up. Only thing the kid was tolerating was broth. On day three Dean was wondering if he'd ever eat. If maybe he should have left Sam in the hospital to be tube fed.

No. He was where he needed to be. In fact, he needed to be at home, with Bobby and Dad. All he had to do was get Sam moving again and he'd be there.

Dean turned back to the TV, where Dr. Sexy was currently making out with sexy but irresponsible Dr. Selena Nunez in the supply closet. Despite the compelling drama between the arrogant Dr. Wang and earnest Dr. Piccolo, he wasn't into it. And it was now- 2:15. Time to pour more broth down his brother's throat.

The ringing phone on the bed stand stopped him however. There on the caller id showed someone hoped would call him back a lot sooner. Well one of the two people.

"Bobby."

" _I didn't get the messages until I got back from a hunt with Rufus. How is he?"_ The man sounded urgent and out of breath.

Dean sighed and glanced back at the lump. "He's not good. Hasn't said anything beyond two words, and- he's not responding. To anything. I've called him all the names in the book, and I've tried talking to him about anything and everything."

" _Shit."_ Bobby sounded irritated. As he should. This was a shitty situation. There was no reason or rhyme for this to be happening, besides the obvious Winchester luck. _"He healing okay. His head doing well?"_

"He was concussed. Pretty badly. They stitched up the cut on his head though, I've been cleaning them regularly. I should take them out soon. The bruising is going down significantly too." Dean scrubbed a hand across his furry face. "What do I do though, Bobby? He's not eating. He's not even looking at me."

" _What you are doing."_ His uncle was patient. _"It's a big shock and- it's not going to heal over the course of a week. Hell, even a month, boy. It's going to be a while before Sam is remotely okay. So just keep talking to him, and whatever you do keep dangerous things away."_

"Ahead of you." Dean nodded. He'd gotten rid of alcohol and all sharp objects from the room. No razor either- hence the furry face.

There was a heavy sigh on the other end. Dean gave Bobby the time to absorb it all. He was sure he was not only worried for Sam's mental state, but sad for Jessica. She had fit well in the family. Kept up with each man and hadn't been afraid to give come backs when offenses were slung around. A better person couldn't have died.

" _Has he been back to the apartment?"_

"No. I haven't taken him back, and- the police tape is still up. Before I take him, I need to remove that and a few other things. I've just been focused on him since." Dean knew he'd have to go back. Then there was school. Sam had missed the interview, and the school couldn't be lenient. They'd stated though that if the kid wanted to try again next year they would be more than happy to have him back. "Sam needs to eat- I need to go."

" _Take good care of him, Dean."_

"Always." Dean responded easily.

 **WHYNOSAVEDIVIDES**

"Please. Just- just look at me- please." The next day Dean wasn't so generous. He was tired of catatonic, Sam. "Just look at me, say something. Do anything." He'd finally ripped the blanket off of the lump, Sam, and propped him up against the wall. Somehow a casual conversation turned into pleading. "I just want you to do something."

Big brother dropped his head on his little brother's chest close to tears. "I'm sorry. I should have- I should have started the exorcism sooner- I should have-" His voice choked off. "Please say anything."

Sam inhaled deeply. "What do you want me to say?"

Dean jumped back like he'd been electrocuted. "Hey, hey." He shifted his hands to his brother's face and lifted Sam's head, searching his eyes. "Let's just talk, huh. Anything that comes to mind."

"I don't want to." Sam's eyes met his brothers for the first time since he'd passed out at the apartment. They were empty.

"It doesn't have to be about- that. Just anything Sam."

That afternoon Sam rattled on about puffins and their beaks, the laws circling child abuse, and anything that didn't pertain to that night. They watched Bonanza, and the Andy Griffith Show. Sam stomached half of a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of orange juice.

 **WHYNOSAVEDIVIDES**

"We should talk about it." The next Day Sam was sitting back up starting at the TV watching the shit movie that was playing.

A flash of emotion drifted over his brother's gaze. "No."

"I know you. You keep this in and it'll eat you alive."

"No." Sam had more bite to his voice. The first bit of emotion he'd heard.

"Look I get it, Sam. You-"

Sam cut Dean off quick. "No, you don't." This time there was no small bite. There was fury in it. "You get it? You think you fucking get it? Why don't you keep your sentimental, chick flick talk, to yourself?"

Dean got the anger. Sam thought for a little while that he could be happy. That he could accomplish the white picket fence dream. Sam had fallen madly in love with a girl and she had accepted him for who he was. Freak with crazy things coming after him. Now the loving, accepting woman was gone. Disappeared in a pool of blood. "I didn't mean-"

"Shut up. God- just shut up." Sam rose fast and furiously to full height. After being curled into himself trying to disappear, his brother looked so large and imposing. "You don't get that everyone _dies_. Mom died above my crib, and Jess- Jess bled to death. Everyone dies. I cannot be normal. I cannot be happy. I thought I could. I had her for such a short time, but she was- she was perfect." His voice broke, and he collected himself with a deep breath. "Fuck your understanding, and fuck life."

Dean kept his voice soft. "Sam-"

Sam ducked his head down. "I was going to propose." Dean had seen the ring in Sam's possessions at the hospital. He'd shown the cops it when they asked how far their relationship had gone. "I was going to keep her next to me for all time, and- now nobody has her. Not her parents. Her sisters. I ruined another family, Dean." Sam stared at his hands like they were burning. The beginning of tears pooling at his eyes. "I'm a cancer, Dean. I'm a cancer…I just need to be cut out and destroyed."

"God no." Dean rushed forward and gripped his brother's shoulders. "Don't say that."

"I am. And you should cut me out of your life. I don't want you to die. I don't want any of you to die. Dad, Bobby, Pastor Jim, Caleb-"

"Sam." Dean forced his brother to look at him. "You are not a cancer. Everyone loves you, and wouldn't dream of not having you in their lives. In my life. Without you Sam, I'm not anything. I need you."

"What if he gets you too? What if any of you die all because of some stupid plan with some stupid unnamed demon. I don't want to be responsible for another death. I don't want to watch as everything I care about crumples around me."

Dean had enough. "I will never leave your side. As for yellow eyes; that fucker will have to do a whole lot to kill me. You know me. You know Dad. We do not go down without a fight. And I'm sorry about Jessica. I really am. She was a nice girl, but _you_ are not to blame. It is not your fault." Sam ducked his head down, and Dean brought it back up. "Hey, hey Sam. Get that through your thick college brain. _It was not your fault._ "

"But it was." Sam said. His voice low. "I could have stopped it."

"Unless you've gone all psychic and saw it all happening, then you couldn't have known." Dean chuckled, but his attempt at humor died when his brother's sad eyes drooped down again. "You didn't, did you? You would tell me if something this big was happening? Right?"

"You don't want that answer."

"Sam." Dean prodded further. Yes, Jess had died and he wanted to be supportive. But this was too big a loop to be kept out of. "How on earth do I keep you safe if you keep a secret like that from me?"

Sam stared at Dean imploring him to leave it be, but the little brother saw the resolution in his brother's eyes. Dean would grip on and he wouldn't let this matter go. Sam's voice was broken when he started. "I have these dreams at night. They're so vivid and horrible and at first; I thought it was the job. I thought the horrors of hunting were just following me. But I looked in the paper one day and there my dream was. The same woman in the picture, and the same death. She was shot- jealous, angry husband when she had cheated. I would try to match my dreams to stories in the papers after that. And the headaches I would get with them I started taking migraine medication for." Sam stopped for a second, but Dean didn't dare interrupt the silence. He was too busy absorbing the information. "Then about a week before you showed up I had this nightmare about Jessica. She was in the middle of Wilbur Field wearing nothing but a robe - and she -"

Dean swallowed, and watched his brother flounder with the words. "We both know. You don't have to say it."

"Yeah." Sam put a hand to his head. "Thanks…anyways I was so afraid that it would come true, but I also convinced myself that it wouldn't. Because usually it would happen a day or two after the dream. And I thought after a week-" Sam lost the strength in his legs.

Dean guided his brother down the dirty carpet. Not minding the cleanliness at the moment. They ended up on their knees Sam's head pressed into his chest and Dean's arms went around his kid brother. Sam matched and finally broke down. He started shaking and sobbing into Dean's shirt.

"I failed her. I'm just as monstrous as the things we hunt."

"You know that isn't true. It's never true."

 **WHYNOSAVEDIVIDES**

Bobby's head perked up at the sound of the Impala's engine. Finally, the boys were home. Buddy lazily sleeping at his feet perked up as well and bounded out of the dog door. Bobby couldn't catch the mutt before he'd disappeared. Today was not the day for the dog to get excited and jump around and he hoped Buddy would keep his wits about him and sense just that. Sure enough, once he stepped out onto the porch, Buddy was half in the impala and half out giving the boy some kind of hug. Bobby was about to call the dog but he saw break into a small smile and laugh. From Dean's look, he hadn't done that in a while.

Dean shifted out of the car and tried to close the door quietly but since that wasn't possible with his car he ended up startling the two reconnected friends. Dean threw Sam an apologetic look, and Sam shrugged. He glanced down at Buddy and rubbed to top of the dog's head.

"Come on boy. I bet I can beat you around the lot." The wide smile he gave the dog was reminiscent of what his boy used to always give him but Buddy knew his boy wasn't really happy. None the less he knew that his boy needed this, and leapt off the kid and got into a position to race. Sam tagged Buddy and raced off into the lot and Buddy ran behind barking. The kid and the dog disappeared into the maze of the lot.

Dean watched his brother go with a sigh. "We'll have to find him. Kid will exhaust himself and not have the strength to walk back."

"He's been dying to do that since he broke out of his state." Bobby threw out an observation as he walked down the stairs and helped Dean unload the Impala.

"Yeah. I kept him in the room. Didn't know where he was going to run off." Now the kid was home and Dean knew all the hiding spots his brother could crawl and squeeze into it was okay. Okay not being the right word. It was more acceptable. But some reason Sam always felt better after an exhaustive run.

Bobby dragged out a box from the back seat and scowled. "This it? That's all the kid saved?"

Dean looked sadly at the box. The picture of Jess and Sam standing in front of the pitiful Christmas Tree peeking out. "Yeah. He has his clothes. Took pictures, a ratty shoe box, a coffee mug, and a snow globe. Everything else he left behind. Her family came in and swept everything else of hers up. Her father had the gall to-" Dean shook off his anger. The look her father gave his brother made his blood boil. The mother had been sympathetic. She'd comforted Sam. The sisters he'd luckily hadn't seen, they were flying in after Sam was due to be gone.

"Probably all memories in that box. I kept Karen's favorite books. I couldn't toss those for the life of me." Bobby stated wisely. He cut off any statements afterwards. Of course, the family was a bit angry at the death of their daughter. If Sam had gone-

"Yeah. I'm just mad that's all Sam has left of her. Pictures and trinkets." Dean said quietly. He shook himself from his mood though and popped the lock on the trunk, producing his own duffle and two more, evidently what Sam had brought back from his closet at Stanford.

Bobby followed Dean up the walkway and into the house, shouldering the door closed. "He always has us though."

"Of course, he has us." Dean agreed. He dumped their bags in the entrance to the living room and looked cautiously over at Bobby. "You heard a word from our old man?"

Bobby reached over to a coat rack and unwound something long and white. He tossed it over to Dean, who easily caught the rope of- charger. "Shit. He left his fucking charger behind. No wonder every call has gone to voicemail."

"He should be coming home-" Bobby stopped and glanced towards the door at the rumble of a familiar engine. "-now? Well I'll be…"

Dean glanced out the window of the living room and saw the dark truck drive to the front of the house and park. Bobby stood at the younger man's elbow and watched as John hopped out of the truck, a thick bloodstained bandage on his arm.

"Tore stitches probably." Dean grumbled. He looked to Bobby. "Look- would you mind letting me-"

"Of course. Why would I get in the way of that?" Bobby cut off the kid easily. He restudied the bags under his boy's eyes, and wondered how much sleep and food had he gotten the last week or so? He would have to talk to him as well, and make sure the kid wasn't going to overwork himself to the point of collapsing. "I'll be in the study if needed. Annie is on a hunt in Milwaukee and called for some help."

Any other day Dean would have teased Bobby about his _girlfriend_ , but today was not that day. "Thanks." Before his father could reach the door, Dean had opened it and stepped onto the patio. He scowled and gestured to the arm. "Hey you okay?"

Apparently, his poker face wasn't up to par because his father's suspicions raised instantly. "I'm doing fine. Got clipped by the claws. I just need to have Bobby redo my stitches is all. What's wrong?"

Dean thought about words and sentences, and how to form them to get his points across. The call to Bobby had been bad enough. "I wasn't hoping to be that obvious. Uh- look Sam-"

His son's cut off concerned John. "Sam what? Is Sam okay?"

"Not really." Dean held up a hand and stopped his panicking dad. "Let me word that better. Sam is okay physically, it's Jessica. She's dead." Dean watched his father process the words. "We came home from the hunt and she was there- but it wasn't really her. She was possessed. We tried at an exorcism and failed."

John still didn't say anything.

"She knocked us out and stabbed herself on the campus. Sam's not taking it so well."

"When did this happen?" John went white.

"Week or two ago. We tried calling but Bobby found your charger." Dean scrubbed a hand across his face.

John dropped the duffle he'd been holding, and cursed out loud. "The bitch say why?"

"Yeah, he's a pawn of the demon after Sam. Didn't want Sam getting to comfy in his apple pie life. What's worse is before he was in Jessica, he was in his old roommate. Brady."

"That drunkard roommate of his? Son of a bitch was watching him." This all made sense. Sam had come back home for the holiday talking about how Brady had gone down-hill fast. The family hadn't known the kid long, but it didn't make sense that a break up would be that dramatic for him, especially when he had been the one to break up with the girl. "PD?"

"Off his back. When she knocked us out and left us in the apartment she gave him a good concussion- maybe myself as well. They may have raised their eyebrows a bit when we mentioned a girl kicked our ass, but they bought it. As far as anyone knows Jess got depressed real bad, and committed suicide." The lie hadn't been easy on Sam either. Sure, it saved Sam's skin, but it also made his girlfreind out to be crazy. Not ideal either. "Her dad kicked up a fuss, but de doesn't have a case on, Sam. Especially when the wife and sisters are quick to vouch on the love the two had. Also- Sam had bought a ring, why would the kid drive his girlfreind to suicide if he was planning to propose?"

John searched for words and all he found was "-good." Not perfect in this situation, but Dean got it. The police off his son's back was a good thing. He'd had to deal with suspicious cops and CPS when the fire broke out. Never a fun situation. "Where is Sam now?"

"Off running. We just got back ourselves. I'm giving the kid sometime to let out- everything, then I'm hunting him down." Dean winced at the term. The thought of whatever was actually _hunting_ his brother made him regret using the word. "He's quit school."

John sighed and wasn't sure how he felt on that matter. On one hand his son was safer being around his family, that had always been certain. But on the other hand, Sam was a highly independent kid. He hated being under the scrutiny of his family, however well meant it was. Not to mention just how hard his smart boy had worked at to get in there in the first place. That school had been his first choice. " _He_ quit school?"

"Yeah, he says it's not safe."

"For him or everyone else?" John asked pegging his son's point without much thought.

Dean scowled. "Both, I imagine. He obviously isn't taking this very well, and I didn't expect him too. I had to keep prodding him to finally break down that night."

To say John wasn't happy about this would be an understatement. John was furious. It was one thing to mess with his happiness, but it was another thing to go directly after his son. Any one of his sons. Any supernatural son of a bitch with the balls to touch a hair on either of his boys usually ended up with said balls ripped off in a horrifying manner. John bit back his anger though. This was not what Sam needed. He had gone down the anger route when Sam was a child and look where that had gotten his family. Him as a drunk, Dean as a mother, and Sam in a cooler nearly dead. "How long are you giving him?"

"An hour. He isn't back by then; I'm searching for him." Dean shrugged.

John wasn't stupid. He knew his son would run just like he would. Now when John ran, he got in a truck and went days away from the boys no cell phone no contact, but Sam he'd just take an hour to exhaust himself. It all came from the same place though. If they were honest Dean was the one keeping everyone together. Dean was the strongest of all of them. "You already know he won't come back on his own. He'll need help."

"I know. And I'll be there. I've always been there." It wasn't a dump on his dad but he saw the old man wince all the same. "He'll need you too." Dean added quickly. "He'll need you to help him through all this. Just don't let him spiral down like-"

"Like I did." John finished. He raised his hands when Dean tried to correct the nature of the statement. "I get it son. I will suggest though that the alcohol in the house disappear. Sam wasn't a big drinker before, but- but tragedies tend to change someone's nature."

Dean nodded. "Bobby took care of that before we even showed up. No beers for anyone for a little while."

"I can handle that." John stated easily. Despite being sober a long time now, he still had his issues with alcohol. If he could he tended to avoid it. "I shouldn't be near the stuff anyways."

The discussion died down. Dean was emotionally spent from the week he'd spent in Palo Alto; with the police, with the demon, and with his brother. And John, was uncomfortable. He was still the kind of dad to throw meaningful glances and not words. When they both entered the kitchen dumping John's belongings in a heap next to the door they met Bobby's steady gaze. John went straight for the coffee and Dean joined his uncle at the table.

An hour went by and no words were exchanged. Neither did anyone look at each other. The only shift was when Dean glanced up at Bobby's clock and sighed. "I'll be back."

Sure enough about thirty minutes later he was. John beat Bobby out the back door as they heard Buddy barking a warning towards the house. The boys were coming in. Dean was helping a very drooped Sam back towards the house Sam's long arm draped over his brother's shoulder. Sam had his head ducked down pressed into his big brother's chest, but he shifted his feet awkwardly in time with Dean's. John looped Sam's other arm around his shoulder and supported his son's other side.

"Hey kid." He said softly.

"Hey dad. She's dead." Sam didn't start crying but his face drooped further. In an attempt to meet his father's eyes, he raised his head and missed a step. Had his family not had a firm hold he would have taken them all down.

John brought one of his hands to support him. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I loved her dad." Sam's voice cracked in a bizarre combination of emotion and exhaustion.

They had reached the porch and stopped in front trying to get Sam to lift his feet high enough to make the step. "Hey sport. Help us get you up this step."

"I loved her sooooo much." Sam almost drunkenly pulled his foot up and they cleared the step. "Why do I bring bad things? I don't want to bring bad things."

"I'm sorry, son." John soothed. They brought Sam in and Bobby closed the door behind them.

"Straight up." Dean grunted as he continued to support his huge little brother's weight. Bobby flanked the trio in case they needed help.

"I don't want to see things in my dreams anymore." Sam sobbed. "I don't want to see people dying. I don't want to see her dying."

That caught John's attention. John cast his glance to his eldest who shook his head firmly. The idea was clear, there was something up, but not now. This was not a discussion to have at the moment with an emotionally distressed Sam between them. "I know Sammy. I know, no visions tonight."

"You promise." Sam slurred.

Dean scowled. He hated promising anything he couldn't prevent. He was still looking into his brother's _situation_ and didn't have a clear read on what was going on with him. But right now, Sam just need to hear some reassuring words. And who knew, maybe he wouldn't wake up screaming tonight. "I promise, dude."

 **(As always- if you have reached this point then I appreciate it. I wouldn't also hurt, if you left a review. Let me know how I'm doing- whether you are new to this whole story, or reading through the redo. Notice anything off- spelling, continuity, grammar- then let me know. It's me, myself, and I writing and posting this- and as many freakin' times as I reread this junk, I always catch some stupid mistake that I just passed.)**


	6. Confusion

**(Minute changes from the original version. I've kinda changed the way Sam's been mourning. After reading through the OG version I kinda cringed when I saw how everything had been written out. So in the rewrite I fixed it. Hopefully I reads better.)**

 **Unforeseen Future**

 **Chapter Six: Confusion**

At four he remembered being confused. Not about his mother. In that regard Dean remembered everything. He remembered the heat, the wails from the baby in his arms, and his father's confident, if not worried, gaze as he told him to take his brother outside. He remembered the swarm of police that had tried to separate him from his baby brother. The instant his father held him close and they both watched and waited as Sammy was checked over by paramedics, and in turn Dean himself, and his father. Then he'd asked his daddy where mommy had gone, he told her that she was up with the angels. Dean asked if she would come back, and daddy cried. It was then at the ripe age of four he realized mommy wasn't coming back. She had left him. He would never see her again.

He hadn't been confused about his new temporary home. He remembered his daddy's boss come up from behind and offer a place to stay. They had stayed there for a little while, and he hated it. The pesky wife of his daddy's boss kept trying to take away Sammy. Trying to change his diaper, and bottle feed him. But he was given responsibility. His dad said to protect him that night, and he was going to do that job tenfold. Besides Sammy didn't want the funny woman to pretend to be his mommy. He needed actual family. And that was Dean.

No, he was confused about his daddy. He knew the knock out juice his daddy was taking made him temperamental and sleepy. He just hated that all of the sudden there was no more hugs, no more ruffling his hair, tickling him, or calling him champ. He stopping playing football with him. His daddy stopped waking up early to go jogging, and stopped clocking in at the garage. His daddy even stopped talking to him all together for a week, even fought with his nice boss. Dean figured he had done something wrong, stopped responding to him entirely Dean stopped talking himself to anyone besides Sammy. He would offer his brother quiet reassurances, but when an adult came up and spoke he would just stare.

That was when Dean had truly gone from big brother to father.

And that painful moment in time was playing out once again. Maybe no fire, but his brother was mirroring his father's struggles. Some days Sam refused to leave the bed. Then there was this this cycle of sadness and anger. Even some days Sam was mean.

"Sam." Dean sighed. He jostled his brother's bed frame. His brother wasn't asleep. Sleep would mean he would see his girlfriend splayed out on the field in her own blood. Sam only got sleep if Dean crushed up sleeping pills in his brother's juice.

The unmoving lump on the bed didn't say anything. Dean supposed it was a repeat sadness day.

"Sam. Get your lazy ass up and go take a shower. You were comatose all day, yesterday. So, it's time to get up, clean up, and put something in your stomach."

Sam shifted slightly. "I showered yesterday."

"No, you didn't." Dean rolled his eyes. Sam still didn't move. "I mean it get up. I have Bobby prepping some food downstairs so you'll have something once you're out."

"'M not hungry, Dean." Sam muttered sleepily.

Dean scowled, but didn't fist his hands and hit the wall like he wanted to. "You feeling lightheaded? Headache? Your stomach maybe not growling, but hollow? Or maybe your limbs they feel weak and it seems like it would take a lot of effort to even get to the fucking bathroom? Well that would be your body running on fumes. You haven't eaten in a few days. I was lenient before, but not now. You will eat something, whether you're hungry or not."

"Yer bossy." Sam muttered and rubbed at his eyes. Slowly the kid pushed himself up in a sitting position.

"And you're a smelly, bitch." Sam cocked up an eyebrow at his brother. Dean would take it. "I mean it Sam. I have to share a room with you, so I know when your rank."

Sam pushed up from the bed and made his way vertical. Dean caught him and helped him to the bathroom just across the hall. With a grunt, he dumped Sam down on the closed toilet and stood back up. "Now do I need to strip down to and hold you up or are you good?"

Sam wrinkled his nose at the thought of taking a shower with his brother. "I can take my own shower, thank you." For once his voice held a tone of disgust and Dean nearly caught a hint of _Sam_ in it.

"Good." Dean gave a slight smile. He headed towards the door and turned before clearing the doorway. "Don't lock the door. I'll bring in a change of clothes for you and take the old ones."

"Dean?" Sam asked studying the shower.

Dean sighed. "Yes?"

"Still hiding the razor?" An eyebrow had shot up and Sam was giving his big brother a hurt look. The first day had caught on that anything that could harm him was out of sight it had stung. Not that Dean admitted it. The knives in the kitchen were suddenly missing, the razor in the bathroom, even the usual fire arms were missing from their hiding spots. Not to mention the alcohol from the fridge and cabinet.

Dean shrugged. He gestured towards his own face, emphasizing the evident facial hair that hadn't been dealt with. "I dunno. I haven't used it myself in a while. Why? You need to shave?"

"No." Sam scowled.

Dean played off the exchange with confusion. "Okay then, what's the big deal?"

"Nothing." Sam drooped on the toilet seat. "Go away."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever, I'll be back and get you some clean clothes." He closed the door behind him and listened to the sound of Sam mutter and grunt as he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower. He waited until the curtain was drawn and the water started before he headed to their room.

It had now been three awful weeks. The first spent in recovery at the hospital. The second spent getting things situated with his apartment and school, and checking to see if demon signs showed Azazel or his goon in the area. The third had been spent dealing with depressed Sam.

On a good day Sam was up and running. Literally running in the lot with Buddy at his heels. On a bad day Sam was on the bed, where not even the dumb dog could get the kid up and going. Those days Buddy would settle for curling up with his boy licking and whining every now and again.

Dean wished this had been the first time he had urged Sam out of bed. He hoped it wouldn't continue next week. Correction. It wouldn't continue next week. Dean would allow his brother to mourn, but the kid needed to start working on dealing with it in healthier better ways. Besides Jessica wouldn't want Sam to be this way. She would want him to move forward.

Sam was in the middle of showering when Dean stepped back in the bathroom and switched out the rancid clothes for clean fresh ones. When he'd dumped the clothes in the basement next to the dryer and washer, he stepped back upstairs and collapsed onto one of the kitchen chairs.

Bobby looked up from his book. "Heard the shower going."

"Yeah, he's finally bathing." Dean sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. "I can't let him do this much longer Bobby."

"I know." Bobby shut the book spreading dust around. "He's just trying to come to terms with it all. Finding out your best friend, your roommate was literally not himself. Then the big bomb of losing someone you love in such a tragic way."

Dean shook his head. "It was like the demon just took a dump on Sam's life and skipped off. I tried following signs- any signs but- he's disappeared off the face of the earth."

"He might have gone underground." Bobby frowned. "Just jostled the kid and ran, but I don't know why."

"He was happy." Dean sighed. He looked up at Bobby and fought back emotions. "He was going to propose."

Bobby stilled. He'd known about the visions, but no one had mentioned anything about a potential engagement. His heart bled further for the kid. "He got the ring?"

"In the cliché, little box." Dean ached for a beer, but that would require pulling one from hiding. "Kid was ready to go down on one knee and start that baseball team."

Bobby dropped the book to the table. "You didn't mention that."

"It wasn't helping us deal with Sam or find the demon." Dean shrugged. "Besides, Sam wasn't ready to have that brought up. Hell, he still isn't ready."

"I'll keep it on the down low." Bobby pushed back on the chair and stood up staring the coffee machine. It was a little late, but if he couldn't have a beer he'd have a cup of coffee. He'd just switch one vice for another. "Need a cup."

"Please." Dean moaned.

They sat in silence. Conversation wasn't high in the house since Jessica Moore's death. It had hit all of them hard. Not only was it hard to see Sam suffering the way he was, but it was hard not having her around. She'd become a staple in the family. She'd learned everything about Sam, hunting and all, and accepted the boy for all he was. She'd called on Bobby and Dean's bullshit whenever they would talk. Act like one of the guys and share a beer. And even fought with them during football games. She had been so good for Sam, and both knew it would be a while before Sam opened up to anyone ever again.

"He's still using his college brain." Dean joked. He flinched however at his familiar term. Sam was no longer in college; Yellow Eyes had effectively chased him out. "He's noticed the razor was missing. I tried to be sneaky too."

"He's aware of how careful you are trying to be around him." John broke in as he walked in from outside. The door closed louder that it had opened and the dog door flap bounced up and down when Buddy pounced in. "Remember when I got pissed because Mike and Kate were tip toeing around me."

Dean scowled. "I'm surprised you do. You were at the bottom of a bottle last I could remember."

"Not a lie." John nodded joining Dean. "But my point still stands."

John had been urging Dean to stop coddling Sam. It wasn't helping the kid any. All it was doing was helping Sam not face reality when he was moping, and piss the kid off when he was angry. Two emotions Sam was feeling a plethora of.

"Well what would you have me do, Dad? I can bark orders at him. Maybe have him run a few laps around the house." Dean cocked his head and made a thoughtful expression. It would have read with sincerity, but both of the older men knew better. "Oh, I know, I can feed into the revenge that Sam must want and have him go incessantly after this demon. Wait sorry, that was you."

John narrowed his eyes. "I don't want you to bark orders, nor do I want you to stir him up. But the boy needs to start getting up in the morning, urge him to exercise and work off some of that emotion. He needs to have a schedule he can follow until he can do _normal_ again. I wish I had done that."

Dean's face softened. "Look I'm-"

"Don't apologize." John ground out. "This is hard on all of us seeing the boy this way. He may be your brother, but he's our son."

Bobby frowned. About a year after he'd returned to his boys and was visiting regularly John had started to refer to the boys as Bobby's sons as well. It wasn't meant to be mean, or offensive, but it was the truth. Bobby and John worked as a sort of couple to make sure the boys got everything they needed. Bobby just wished it didn't make it sound like they actually were a couple.

"John, there has to be a better way to explain that." Bobby groused.

"Point being. We all want Sam to get better. And Sam wallowing isn't doing that."

"I know." Dean finally sighed. "I just told Bobby I couldn't let Sam do this anymore. I'm not sure what I'll do but, he'll have to start getting up in the morning, and eating for sure. He's too freakishly tall to not eat."

The water cut off upstairs, and Dean heard the pressure die off in the pipes. "Okay. Can you heat something up Bobby? I'm dragging Sammy down here whether he likes it or not."

"Yeah, I can make him something, real quick." Bobby nodded.

"Thanks." Dean didn't need to look to know that there were two pairs of concerned eyes following him towards the stairs and up until he was out of sight. He had already gotten the speech from Bobby about how he could dote on his brother, but he had to take care of himself in the process. Dean said he would but he wasn't doing a good job of it. He had gotten little sleep sitting over his little brother as he tossed and turned in the night. He told Bobby he got sleep but the darkness under his eyes told a different story.

At the bathroom door Dean leaned up against the frame and listened to his brother as he shuffled around the bathroom. One he heard the zip of his jeans Dean pushed the door open in time to see Sam buttoning the pants.

"Dean." Sam groaned, after he registered that it was in fact his brother imposing on him. "You could wait."

"You have pants on." Dean shrugged. "Now the shirt and we can go downstairs."

Sam muttered as he picked up a toothbrush unsolicited and scowled at his brother. "I don't need a baby sitter, besides I'm not-"

"Whatever you're about to say better not end in hungry, because we discussed this before. You _are_ eating. I already have Bobby downstairs making something." Dean growled.

Sam just rolled his eyes and put a line of toothpaste on the brush before scrubbing it across his teeth. He didn't work too hard at it; it was just to get the stale taste out of his mouth. After a rinse and spit, he looked up to find Dean with his arms crossed glowering up at his brother. "I'll eat something." Sam rolled his eyes. "Quit mother-henning."

"Have you met me?" Dean's scowl deepened.

"Unfortunately." Sam shuffled out of the bathroom, but for the first time in a long time he wore a slight grin.

Dean wanted to collapse his knees weak the second he saw his brother's lips turn slightly upwards. He'd seen them do that before in the passing weeks, but usually the expression failed to meet his eyes. This time there was a glow there that hadn't been there before. He played off his emotion. "Unfortunately!? I will have you know I am the best person I know."

"Suree." Sam's grin widened for a split second before he pushed past his brother and started for the stairs.

"It's true." Dean playfully smacked his brother's arm. He sniffed at the air and exhaled dramatically. "I smell bacon."

"Worse than a bloodhound." Sam muttered, but his blank expression had slid back into place. He'd allowed all the emotion he could out. Sam stopped, but he didn't turn. "Thanks, Dean. For everything."

Dean's playfulness dropped. The large part of his heart devoted to his snot nosed little brother practically started to bleed. Dean cuffed the back of Sam's neck and kept his calloused hand there for a second before clearing his throat. "Hey, anytime. I got your back."

"I'm going to head to my room then." Sam said quietly trying to play off what his brother had demanded a little while ago.

"Nope." Dean gave his brother a shove towards the stairs. "Nice play with the sentiment but you're still eating."

By the time the brothers had made it down the stairs and they'd entered the kitchen Sam was done with his protests. He couldn't explain it. Food had no appeal. It didn't look good, and it didn't smell good. All it did was churn at his stomach. The last meal he had, he'd chucked it back up again.

Dean cuffed his brother's neck again, only this time it wasn't a sentimental move, it was to force his brother into the chair. Sam took it without complaint. Bobby carefully looked over from the stove at the kid slumped in the chair. "Nice to see you up, boy."

Sam didn't respond.

Dean dropped a glace of juice in front of his brother. "Use words."

Sam managed a decent bitch face. "Thanks, Bobby."

It may have been annoyance, but Dean was happy with what he had gotten today. Sam had actually gotten out of his bed, and showered. He was going to eat a meal, and he'd gotten his brother to smile, and make a bitch face all in one day. Baby steps.

Bobby plated the eggs and strip of bacon and put it in front of the boy. He noticed Dean wrinkle his nose at the meager amount on the plate. "Here you go, Son. Your stomach hasn't had a lot of food the last couple of days, so we're going to start slow okay. We want you keeping down food."

Sam nodded but looked down at the plate like Bobby was serving a platter of severed fingers. "Thanks."

Conversation didn't start until Sam had dug his fork into the eggs and taken at least a single bite. Afterwards it remained polite and light. When Sam's plate was cleaned save the bacon, Dean swiped the strip off knowing his brother wasn't going to eat it. It was like they were starting all over again. It seemed not too long ago, a skinny-assed twelve-year-old sat at the table so sure he was going back to a life of motel to motel, so he didn't want to get too used to food. Now Sam was too sad to even think about eating. He desperately wished his brother could be normal.

"Any sign." Sam asked. There wasn't a twinge of anger. The angry phase had started after Sam had cried. He'd run himself ragged trying to find yellow eyes. Dean didn't allow himself to feed into his brother's anger then. Sam was too much like his father and he didn't want Sam going down the vengeance road.

"None yet. I however have one of Ellen's guys on it. Apparently, the man that works the bar and sports a mullet has a techie background. Kid went to MIT. Course he got kicked out, but he is a genius with a computer." John stated.

Dean chuckled. "How would you know?" His father couldn't even work a flip phone.

John ignored his eldest in favor of watching his younger son. "I spoke with him at the bar about all the notes I had on trying to find this son of a bitch, and how difficult it was trying to find it all manually, and all he did was plug in the conditions. He can go back in time, and tell me where Yellow Eyes was before. Says that if he gets any kind of notice about him now, the computer will instantly tell him. And he of course will call me."

"You trust someone enough to give them your notes?" Sam's tone changed slightly but he couldn't muster a smile.

"I've had enough discussions with him. I only knew that he was able to find hunts that no one knew about. Except for the mullet he's alright." John shrugged. "What about you, Sam? Any headaches?"

He wasn't worried about the headaches. He was worried about what came with the headaches. One time, when Sam had nearly made it to the shower he'd collapsed and gripped his head. It wasn't a headache. All three men knew that despite the lack of hunting in the boy's life, he could handle pain like the rest of them. No this was skull splitting pain. He'd fainted. It took two of them to wrestle Sam in bed, and by the time Sam had woken up there was panting with tears streaming down his face.

 _His arm falling across his eyes to drown out the light. "Woman is going to die." Sam had moaned finally._

 _John and Bobby looked shocked. They'd gotten the visions discussion from Dean, with a few grunts from Sam. But they hadn't seen the kid in action. John however had the sense to flick off the light. From what he had seen his boy must have had an awful pounding in his head._

" _How does she die, Sam? Where is she?" Dean asked instantly._

 _Confusion had mixed in with his sorrow. "I don't know."_

" _You don't know?"_

 _Sam thought hard about it, or he was in pain. They couldn't tell with his expressions anymore. "The other woman touched her, and she fell over. She didn't mean to. She got scared."_

" _You don't know where?"_

" _Billings, Billings Montana." Sam muttered. "They were talking- about visiting family- and-" Sam didn't finish, he just looked blankly forward and wiped at his bleeding nose._

The place was huge though. Biggest city in Montana, and John on his way over got the call from Bobby that he'd looked into the news there. Young woman found dead in hotel room. Apparently, a Jennifer Stallings was headed home to introduce her girlfriend Lily Baker to her family. Jennifer was found dead in her hotel room, no foul play discovered. Her heart had simply stopped. However, Lily was gone. She hadn't even taken her things with her. Another body was found of a taxi man, without the taxi. Once again, no poison, no markings on the body, his heart had just stopped. They were still looking for the car and the girl.

"I had a small headache for a little while afterwards, but-" He didn't need to finish. He hadn't seen anything else. "I never asked, was she ever found?"

"No." John answered. Once he made it there, he'd played FBI, and come up with nothing. "She was born however in 1983."

Dean leaned forward in his seat. He hadn't gotten that information. "Was there a fire?"

"That's where it gets weird." John scowled. "No, there wasn't. Best thing that I can come up with is that Mary went to check on Sam."

"Maybe if mom or dad hadn't checked on the baby-" Dean let that thought sink in.

"They'd still be alive." Sam finished. His voice low and tired.

Dean scowled. "I didn't mean it like that Sam."

"I know." Sam scooted back in the chair. "I'm going back upstairs."

Dean didn't fight his brother on the matter. He'd go up and talk to him in a little. "You're getting up and having dinner later."

Sam didn't respond but he didn't fight Dean on the matter either. Dean waited until he heard the door shut upstairs. "So all those other visions he's had, they could be tied to other _children_? I mean maybe they have some messed up connection we don't know about."

"I don't know Dean. When he's up to it, we can ask him about the other visions. You said he looked them up?" John rubbed a tired hand across his stubble.

Dean shrugged. "That's what he said. I didn't get around to asking just how many he actually placed."

Bobby grunted as he stood up and put Sam's plate in the sink. "I say we call in the cavalry. What does Missouri have to say about this?"

"About what? The children?" Dean asked.

"Everything. This is kind of her area of expertise. She's gotten thoughts and images from the demon. Also, she gets visions on the regular as well, what's to say she can't school Sam in what he's going through." Bobby offered.

"Because he won't be doing it long." John growled. "I'm finding a way to end this. To end whatever Sam has."

"And what if Sam is just a natural psychic. Maybe his abilities hadn't revealed themselves until now. What if the reason this creature is after these kids, is because they can see visions, or they can kill by touch, or whatever other abilities are out there?" Bobby growled back. "What if there is nothing to cure. This could just be Sam."

"It's not possible." John set his jaw firmly.

"And how do you know that. You couldn't even get your family medical history." Bobby felt himself boiling.

Dean thought long. He'd looked into all the books Bobby had on a way to stop his brother from seeing these visions of death. But maybe that wasn't the answer. Maybe his brother was just naturally meant to see them. "That's true dad. We know nothing about our family. Maybe there was a psychic in there somewhere we just don't know about."

"We know enough."

Dean frowned. "You barely knew mom's parents. They died before you were married. And unless mom brought up her family." His dad stayed quiet. "Then we know nothing about her side. Then there's your family. All we know about is your mom, the Whites. Your dad-" John's dad had run out on him when he was younger. Dean always figured that factored into his own father's need to run.

"Yeah. I'm still looking into it though." John stated firmly. "I'll double check the Campbell's, but no son of mine is-"

"Is what dad?" Dean growled. "You think this makes Sam a monster? Having visions doesn't turn them into that. You trust Missouri right. Why not Sam?"

"Your twisting words." John scowled. He slapped his hands hard on the table. He gave a firm glance to both of the men. "Call Missouri on training the kid. But I swear to you there is no need for it. He won't have this much longer."

 **(A/N: So once again- it is just me doing this. Nobody else to read through this stuff. However many times I read through this stuff, I always miss little, and big mistakes that I should have caught. So let me know. I'll fix it- after a little bit of procrastination.)**


	7. Unwanted Answers

**A/N- to those reading that read the previous version I made small differences in this. I'm working on sad Sammy, and changing specific aspects because once again- no fire- different outcomes. Like Sam keeping specific things that may or may not help in the future of this story (wink). And maybe sources of abilities have changed- possible IDK. Give it a go.**

 **Unforeseen Future**

 **Chapter Seven: Unwanted Answers**

The coddling had stopped. Next morning Dean had helped Sam wrestle on a pair of sweats and sneakers, and kicked him out of the house. The petulant kid scowled but sat outside quietly with Buddy at his heels gnawing on a rawhide. Buddy got bored of the rawhide a little later and became determined to play fetch. After about the eleventh attempt, Sam picked up the little tennis ball Buddy would pick up and repetitively drop at his feet. Dean wasn't sure if it was annoyance that got his brother to pick up the ball and throw it, but it ended up in Sam and Buddy playing a very long game of fetch. It was small, but Sam seemed to enjoy it. It seemed to get everything off his mind for a short while at least. Any physical activity usually did that.

The day after Dean didn't need to prod. His brother found a book from the shelves and sat under the little tree from across the house. He even gave a genuine smile when Buddy came from his round and curled up next to him. Once again the exchange ended in Buddy prodding Sam to play fetch. The third day, Sam was up before Dean. When Dean checked the front and back of the house, Sam was nowhere in sight. He pulled on a light jacket and stepped out into the lot, only to find Sam jogging, Buddy at his heels. The dog for a second rushed to Dean with a drooped tongue in a greeting. Dean had rubbed the dog's ears and smirked as he gave a light thump with his leg.

"Hey Sam. If you had woken me up I would have joined you." Dean casually tossed.

Sam didn't show amusement on his face, but it wasn't sad either. He'd take it. "You don't get up for anything. I always was up way before you to work out."

The kid wasn't lying. Dean valued his sleep. Sam however without his father barking orders had found the physical activity therapeutic. Especially before tests. "Hey I eventually worked out."

"In the evening." Sam's lips flipped up in a slight grin.

"My sleep is valuable." Dean shrugged. "I'm headed back the house. When your finished I'll have breakfast."

"Bobby isn't up?"

"Not yet, but I bet the scent of bacon will get things going." Dean smirked himself.

"And dad?" Sam questioned.

John had been locked in the guest room upstairs, only leaving to grab a quick meal, or switch out Bobby's books. Dean wasn't happy with his father, and neither was Bobby. Sam had seen his father slipping into anger and revenge again, but would constantly have Dean and Bobby at his side to push him away from such thoughts.

"I don't know what Dad's doing." Dean answered.

Sam slipped back under his mask. "Okay. See you inside."

Dean watched his brother jog off into the little maze. Sam probably would be at that for another thirty minutes. He wouldn't tire out, Sam knew that Dean would come after him and make him eat breakfast. If his brother was going to start working out again, then fine. It was a good thing. It was a good way for Sam to work off his emotions in a healthy manor, but that meant Sam was burning calories. And Dean wasn't going to let his brother burn calories without putting in more. Sam was not going to exhaust himself again.

When Dean had stepped up onto the back patio, he sniffed at the air. "Bacon." He hummed softly. Bobby must be up after all.

Only once he'd opened the door there was Missouri taking out the first strip of bacon from the pan. "Why hello, sugar."

Dean paused for a second and shook his head before going to the bags at the counter. "I don't even want to know how you got in."

"Why the front door was unlocked, of course." She stated sweetly.

"It wasn't." Dean muttered digging through the bag. He hissed when the warm spatula smacked onto his fingers. He didn't say anything, but his glare was enough. With Missouri, you didn't have to vocalize your thoughts. She already knew. "You probably picked the lock, when the back door was opened."

"The walk to the back door would have been too long. Besides your wrong again, sugar." She dangled a strip of hot bacon in Dean's reach. "You let me in."

Dean eyed the bacon and shrugged. In one swipe, he took the bacon and went to the table. "Okay, I let you in."

"You let who in?" Bobby sleepily muttered. He appeared in the doorway and took in the woman cooking at his oven. An expression of irritation crossed his face and he scrubbed at his scruff. "You let Missouri in…"

"Yep." Dean said shorty taking his last bite.

"Did you give her the test?" Bobby asked.

Dean looked over at Missouri expectantly and she rolled her eyes and tossed another strip at him. "Yep." Dean grinned before crunching down on the bacon.

"Which means no." Bobby sighed. He let the matter go though. She had visited frequently enough and gave him so much crap about the test he wasn't ready to deal with that again. He had more important things to discuss. "I take it you know why we need your help."

Missouri dug through one of the plastic bags. "Of course. Sam lost his girlfriend. She was a sweet thing. You obviously know who did it." She waited for Dean and Bobby to nod. "And your worried about the visions he's been having. I'm all caught up."

"And?" He'd called her a few days ago, and he'd been anticipating her call back. He desperately wanted to know what she had to say on the matter.

"And this discussion can wait after Sam, and John have joined us for breakfast." Missouri muttered.

Bobby scowled. "He's upstairs in the guest room. He probably won't come down." Bobby was getting tired of John. Bobby was getting irritated at the way he was messing up the organization of the books, and of course he also hated the way that John was taking all of this. Sam was still angry, but without anyone to bounce off he was slowly slipping into acceptance. Although her death would always be something that would eat at his soul. He recalled losing his wife and _accepting it_ , didn't mean he didn't still mull about it. Meanwhile John was slipping back into his anger, and revenge. He'd done well the first few days, trying to support his son, but now not so. If he didn't start correcting his mood, Bobby would suggest that John find a motel somewhere.

"He'll come down." The woman pursed her lips and lowered her brows into a 'V.' "Once I'm all finished cooking that stubborn mule is coming down to hear what I have to say. As far as Sam goes, he'll be another ten minutes. Enough time for me to whip up some pancakes."

"What was the bacon for then?" Dean asked confused, as she started putting away the pan she'd made the six strips on. Six pieces of bacon didn't go very far in the house. Even with his veggie loving little brother, bacon went very quickly.

"To keep you two occupied while I made breakfast." Missouri rolled her eyes. "Bobby fusses that I'm cooking on _his_ stove, and you, Dean keep trying to eat everything as it's being made. You both are impossible.

She dug into her bags and started pulling out an array of things. Dean didn't say anything but balked at the amount of food being drug out of the bottomless bags. Breakfast? She was cooking up a feast. He noted the objects and what could be made with them, and pieced together that she making food specific for Sam. Blueberry Pancakes, eggs, and wheat toast. Basically the lame version of a breakfast. Of course Bobby and Dean's breakfast consisted of bacon, sausage, and more bacon. Although Bobby was starting to eat a little healthier. Turn coat.

Sam returned when she had a plate piled high with pancakes. He didn't say anything, just in a question pointed to the woman when she wasn't looking. The psychic woman, who knew and saw everything.

"Yes, I am here." Missouri barked. "I don't need an excuse to come see you boys. "Besides I have some information for you…after we eat."

Sam opened his mouth to say something and thought better.

"Quit thinking that way." She called over her shoulder.

"I wasn't-" Sam hastily started.

"Oh yes you were hon." She softened her voice. "I get that your hurting, but everyone in this home has lost someone they've loved. They've gone through everything you are. We are all just here to help you out boy. Besides, you are not alone. That's just how he wants you to feel." Her eyes took a knowing look as she regarded Sam. "You need to fight and push for the surface boy, or drown in your sorrow."

Sam froze. He looked up at Missouri his eyes wide. "What? What did you just say?"

"Just a saying, boy." She winked and switched off the oven. She brought over five plates and positioned them around the small table. "Now, I'm getting your foolish father. No eating until I return."

Sam dragged out a chair and sat down. "When did she get here?"

"I dunno." Dean shrugged. "Must have been when I went to go outside to find you."

"But you let her in." Bobby smirked. Picking at the last of the bacon she'd left as an offering.

Dean smirked back. "Exactly, I came back in and she was at the front door. That was when I opened the door to let her in."

"Boy, it doesn't take much to buy your loyalty." Bobby chuckled.

Sam watched the exchange but figured he didn't want to know. "What is it she's coming to tell us?"

"I don't know. It's Missouri. She's a mystery herself."

The three sat around the table awkwardly staring at the food, up until there was a loud thump, and a curse. Seconds later Missouri came down the stairs a firm grip on John's ear. Somehow the older woman was dragging John by the ear. John was still cursing and smacking at her hands, not wanting to hurt her, but wanting the grip gone.

"Dammit Missouri. I'm not a child." John griped.

"Then stop acting like one, John Winchester." She finally released her grip.

John straightened and the patch of red on his cheek was suddenly visible. John scowled, embarrassment making his mood the past few days worsen. "I don't see why Bobby allows you to come as you please. You seriously have no manners."

"You want to talk manners, John?" Missouri rolled her eyes. "You don't cuss at someone who is trying to help. Oh and don't lock yourself in a room. If you are a guest, then you socialize."

John gave a growl but pulled out a chair and thumped down hard into it. His gaze softened when he eyed Sam. "Hey Sam." Even if he was horrified at the kid's abilities, he wasn't horrified with his son. Sam was a victim in all this. The poor kid had gone through so much. The reason he was trying to find out why his son could do the things he could was to give him a normal life. Maybe once the kid was _cured_ he could move on and find another girl, make little floppy haired grandchildren for him, and have that white picket fence house.

"Hey dad." Sam said softly.

John scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. "Well, then, I'm out of the room. Explain."

Missouri scowled at him. "I told you, we are going to eat breakfast, then I'll answer questions."

Breakfast went by slow and awkward. They tried having a civil conversation; discussing the weather, and potential hunts. After breakfast Missouri got up to take back the dishes, but John smashed a fist down on the tale and growled. "I've eaten breakfast, and been civil. Now what do you know?"

She didn't look shocked by the outburst.

"I'd usually get after him, but he's right. It's been a long time, and we would like answers." Bobby said softly putting a gentle hand on her arm. "We need to know what you know."

Missouri cleared her throat, and sat back down. "Okay. Let's start at the obvious. He did come back, Sam. And you know why he went after your girlfriend. As far as the evil plan goes I don't exactly have insight on that, I never have, and unless he slips up, I never will." Missouri got a little uncomfortable. "And so, you know she wasn't in pain for long. I walked around the field a little after you had gone, and She was worried for you. She knew what this would do to you. Especially after your mother."

Sam shifted in his chair, his expression unreadable.

"I'm sorry, and I know you don't want to hear it. But your strong. It's hard getting past this now, and she'll always be a painful memory. But wounds scab over. It'll never be gone, but it'll hurt less." Her hand covered Sam's and rubbed at the boy's knuckles.

"And the visions?" John ground out.

Missouri sighed but didn't take away her hand, or her eyes from Sam. "I know your worried about them, John. You want to tell the rest of the class why you're so anxious to get rid of them. Because you sound like an ass without the explanation."

John sputtered.

When it was clear there would be now explanation from him, Missouri looked at all of them. "John is worried that Sam, is hurting more because of this ability. It scared him when the ability proved to put Sam in pain. Besides the pain, he wants the visions gone, so that Sam can go back to his life. He didn't like it when Sam's life got derailed. Plus, he's not only angry that something messed with not only him, but his son." She glared at John. "Who he loves, even though the words never come out."

Three shocked gazes went to John, and John didn't like it. He gave a growl and snapped out a profanity. "Thank you for the touchy-feely moment. We'll do the kumbaya circle after I get my answer."

"First, the pain is because you're fighting it." Missouri ignored John. "I'm not saying you need to embrace the power. That's something you have to decide on your own. But fighting it, means that in order to reveal itself it needs to fight back. And baby, it fights back dirty."

The air was heavy, as they waited for the second point.

"And I know that there is a mixture of feelings on this matter, but the ability is hereditary."

John bristled. "It is-? How could you-? Sam cannot-?"

"Oh hush." Missouri ground out. "You sound ridiculous right now. And let me add that not only does young Sam have it in his blood, but so do you and Dean."

Dean popped up an eyebrow. "What?"

"Not in the sense that you can see things happening, or communicate with your mind. What you have has been watered down from generation to generation. What you have is this- extra sense. It helps when someone you love is in danger, or when you sense one of those things you hunt is near. I'm willing to bet that your mother-" She was now pointing to John. "-knew when you were hungry and exactly what you wanted."

"Yes, but she was my mother- it was perfectly normal for her to-" John scowled. "Look. This is useless. Thanks, but no thanks for the help."

"God dad, calm down." Dean bit out. He got it. It sounded outrageous even to him, and the mention of his long-deceased grandma certainly hadn't helped in the mix. When his dad didn't relax. Dean took the silence as enough. "Let's say that this isn't nuts. Why is Dad and my _abilities_ so much more tame? Every now and again does someone in- this blood line- get the recessive gene in this case?"

Missouri glanced over at Sam, who by now was wishing he could sink into the ground. "Whatever happened the night of the fire, whatever the demon did, it enhanced what Sam had. That's why Sam was a target. Because he had something already in him that could be used."

"The why not me." Dean demanded. "Why didn't the bastard just screw me over, and leave Sam alone?"

"You act as if I see the inner workings of this demon's head. I just know what I'm given now." Missouri stated confidently. Dean didn't trust her all together though, and Sam, Sam knew she was lying. But that would be a different matter for a different day. "What young Sam has, isn't entirely a curse. There are simple ways to control the pain, and deal with the visions. I would suggest that Sam return with me and start training- now. A young psychic untrained is no good for anyone."

John had it. "He is not training. Because whatever _curse_ he's been thrown is going to be over. I'll look through the books-"

"More books, John?" Missouri looked irritated. "I've seen how many you have upstairs."

"Then I'll find more of them." John burst. "Look, just because you cannot sense something this big, inside my boy-"

"Oh, you can go stuff it, John. I sensed what you had a long time ago. I sensed it in Dean and Sam. It was small and it was not worth mentioning only because what good would it have done. You suddenly knowing about an extra sixth sense, didn't change that it was there. What Sam has though, the demon kept it dormant. He kept it disguised, until he wanted it seen."

"So, all the kids…" Sam said softly, but didn't finish.

"Every child, visited by the demon, should have some ability, maybe even had a hint of one before. And yes, you are tied together somehow, that's why you dream about these young people."

Sam shut his eyes. The woman, Lily, the man who'd killed his cheating wife, the woman who had jumped off a bridge; they were all children like him. Who'd been cursed with something they'd never wanted. Maybe some of them had even lost their parents.

"Do you remember your other visions?" Dean asked. "Could you place the people in them, and we could try to see if they're all-"

"Born in 1983?" Sam finished darkly. "I kept a journal…in my apartment. I have it upstairs."

"There's another piece to this puzzle." Missouri said softly bring back the attention to her.

Sam sighed and his head drooped. "And what's that?"

"I can't say for sure, but I know it has to do with your mother, and her family." Missouri still kept her voice low.

John scowled. "Mary had nothing to do with this. And her parents were long dead before that night. Besides, with what you just confirmed about Sam's powers, I don't need _that_ answer to prove anything." His wife hadn't done anything he was certain. She would never put her babies in danger. And he _didn't_ need to find out about her family anymore. The ability wasn't given to his son at birth, but by the bastard Yellow Eyes.

"I couldn't tell you why John, but something tells me you need to know about her and her family. And someone in the room has the answer."

"Who?" John scowled.

Missouri gave a pointed look towards Bobby.

"Whoa hey. I never met your wife." Bobby raised his hands defensively, when John threw Bobby a dark look. He'd been watching the conversation, and been happy to be a sideline character. Missouri pulling him into the fray wasn't making him happy either. "Friendly or otherwise."

"You never met a Mary Winchester?" John questioned. He felt a growing anger at this line of discussion. He'd looked everywhere for the Campbell's. Near as he could figure they'd existed but kept everything to themselves. He remembered how secretive they'd been when he'd initially met them. How much of a dick her father had been. He figured her father was just some, ex-army shut in who didn't want to be found by the government.

"Plenty of Mary's none of them Winchester, or with rings." Bobby kept his hands up.

"She wasn't always Mary Winchester." Missouri offered.

John felt his face go red. He couldn't do much about his wife before he met her, but if Bobby had been with his wife _ever_ , he was going to spill blood. "Did you- before I was- with my future wife?"

Bobby backed out of his seat at the violent reaction. He threw an angry look over at Missouri. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

Unamused by John's bristling and Bobby's aghast, Missouri rolled her eyes and brought her hands. She stayed still for a second while John seethed. "Oh my god, you men think with your penis much more than you should. _What_ was Mary's name? Before she was Winchester?"

"Campbell. Mary Campbell." John spilled quickly. His anger dropped as he realized he'd never shared that information with his sons. He'd never wanted to talk about her. Only gave single answers whenever asked. His tone softened when he glanced over at his surprised boys. "Your mother's name was Mary Campbell."

Bobby stilled. "What were her parent's names?"

"Samuel and Deanna Campbell." He glanced at Sam. "We named you two for her parents."

"Heard of a Samuel and Deanna Campbell, knew they had a daughter who joined them, but couldn't recall her name. They all kind of disappeared." Bobby offered quietly.

"Joined them where? And what did you mean disappeared?" John asked.

Sam pieced everything together quicker than his mulling father and brother. "Bobby, are you saying my mom, was a hunter?"

"No." John's head shifted violently towards Missouri. "She was not- She would have-" He quieted. Their sudden deaths. Her aversion to guns or knives, but wanting them in the house all the same. Her insistence that salt was something they needed to stockpile just in case. The News. She hated watching the news, the mention of a death or a weird situation she'd slip into quiet thoughtfulness.

Dean said his voice small, too small for his larger than life son. "Dad…You don't think she was? Do you?"

John firmly met his son's eyes. The truth; she'd said a long time ago that despite what he thought, keeping secrets from his boys wasn't protecting them. They needed to know the things that hurt so they could prevent themselves from dying from something they could avoid. "If she was it makes a lot more sense. I couldn't find _anything_ on her family. And she had a lot of odd habits, that in that context aren't so confusing."

Sam remained quiet. She'd left. She'd tried to leave the life, and the life came back like a bad rash. It further proved his thoughts. He would never escape. Once you got in, you could never get out. A hand slipped up and he unconsciously sighed and leaned back in his chair. He wouldn't have even gone to school if he'd known that he would find someone and they would get hurt. He would have stayed home. Gone to some community college and get a simple enough degree. Hell, he could have become a mechanic. No, he wanted something grander. He wanted to become a lawyer and stand in court like some hero.

John felt himself slipping back into anger. "Great. Next you're going to tell me my dad was some Men in Black agent and he left to go to some distant planet to protect space."

Dean was a little surprised he'd even known about movies after 1980, and any other time would have teased him.

"Actually…" Missouri paused her mind in deep thought, and her eyes staring off into nowhere.

Dean sighed. "Oh, don't tell me aliens exist. Although I wouldn't mind meeting Mulder and Scully. Scully was kind of hot."

"No, I think you don't know everything about your dad, John." Missouri collected herself. "He's got a small part to play it this. A very small part to play, but I don't know what." When John whirled to face Bobby she quickly added. "And no one in the room does either."

John was exhausted. First his son had abilities that were enhanced by the SOB that killed his wife. Then his wife may have been a hunter, and now his father. His father could have secrets as well. It was too much for one day. His thoughts trailed off of him, and went to his son. If it was too much for him, was Sam okay? "Sam? Are how are you doing with-"

"Fine." Sam said tersely.

The word _fine_ was thrown around way too much. Carmen breaks up with Dean, and Dean is _fine_. John comes home from a hunt limping and nearly bleeding to death, and he's _fine_. Sam comes home from school on vacation and he's exhausted mind and soul, but he's _fine_ too. Even Bobby threw that word around too much. _Fine_ wasn't fine.

"I should go find Buddy." Sam stood up from his chair. "Make sure he's okay."

Bobby put a hand on Sam's arm to stop him. "Buddy is okay. He's just in the corner behind you. Sit back down Sam. We can-" Bobby got stopped.

"NO!" Sam burst out loud, and ripped his arm away. His tone went down and he scrubbed a hand across his face. Sure, answers had been given, but with them so many more questions had appeared. "I mean- I'm fine, I just need some air. It's getting too stuffy in here."

Dean gave his brother a soft look. "Okay Sam, be back in an hour." Or he was going to look for him was heavily implied. He waited for Sam to leave out the back. Buddy perked up his head and followed.

Missouri took the time herself to get out of the chair and start to clear the table around the men.

John stood up from the table nearly knocking her down, had she not moved fore warned about the sudden action by her abilities. "I'm headed upstairs."

Bobby gave the man a sympathetic look. "You going to join us for lunch?"

"Yeah." John stated shortly. His hand itched to curl around his car keys and just drive. Nowhere in particular, just anywhere. Anywhere but here. He glanced down at Dean whose own eyes were wide. Sam had already run off. He was just waiting for his father to do it to. "Just in my room, Dean." He comforted. "I just need some time. I need to digest everything."

 **DIVIDEDIVIDEDIVIDEDIVIDE**

Dean didn't have to look far for his brother. He found the kid just sitting on the porch his eyes skyward, the damn dog curled at his side. Dean wasn't sure if his brother was forming shapes in the clouds, if he was looking up at the sky to see if Jess or his mother appeared, or if he was just too deep in thought. Either way Sam was very much so distracted. His little brother looked over after Dean shifted next to him.

"It's nice outside."

Dean nodded. A lighter topic was preferred. "Yeah. It is."

There was a lengthy bout of silence between them. Dean wasn't sure what to say. He would run a line through his head only to decide that it wasn't right. When he discovered that there would be no good option either way, he stated what he had wanted to say for days. "You should find a place nearby that will let you finish your law degree. Go become a lawyer, find a nice girl, and make me an uncle." Dean said softly his eyes captivated by the shifting clouds.

"No." Sam said firmly. "I can't go back to that. I tried and look where that got me."

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Okay. What _do_ you want to do then?"

"Hunt." Sam ignored his brothers shocked look. "I hated it dude. I still do. It's just whenever I try to go down a normal path, _he_ trips me up. People end up hurt."

"What the demon does isn't your fault and you shouldn't go after revenge. Look what happened to dad."

"Not revenge. Hunting." Sam explained. "I already heard you guys. He wants me to get angry to feel like I'm alone. I don't feel alone, and I am not overtaken by anger. I just want to protect people. If people are going to die _because_ of me." He hastily added. "Even if it isn't my fault. I want to save a few lives as well."

"You don't want revenge?"

Sam thought on it and shrugged. "Sure, if we found the demon and plugged a few permanent holes in him, I wouldn't be opposed. But like I said, I think he wants me to get mad. When I'm calm I can control this-" Sam paused. "-this ability. When my emotions get the better of me they start to spiral out of control. I can't let him win, and he certainly hasn't won yet. I just want to be there for someone else."

Dean sighed and glanced back at the sky. "You know you aren't getting out there until all of us agree you are ready."

"I know." Sam half-heartedly chuckled. "All three of you are mother-hens in your way."

Dean grinned wide. "You are the Baby Winchester."

"You know I am taller than you. Or is your depth perception off?"

"You started out as a midget, and you've been shorter than me longer than you've been taller. Besides, you're the youngest. Automatically that makes you the baby."

"By four years." Sam nudged his brother's arm. "Do those extra four years give you more profound wisdom?"

Dean smirked. "You bet your britches."

"Okay then Mr. Wise Guy, give me some profound advice."

"Always use a condom dude. You don't want little mini, floppy haired, Sammies running around."

Sam laughed. Actually, deep bellied laughed. "My life is richer already."


	8. Training

**(So little really changed, save some dialogue.)**

 **Unforeseen Future**

 **Chapter Eight: Training**

Sam ultimately turned down training. Last thing he, or his family needed at the moment was him hightailing it to Lawrence Kansas without them. So instead Missouri took a few days to help Sam (and Dean) learn how to brew a good relaxing tea for when a vision did occur, and sat down with Sam and taught him meditation.

He'd done yoga; once. When Jessica had persisted they should do it as a couple. His lengthy limbs were too uncoordinated for it though. Soccer he was king. Running back and forth across the field, and focusing his energy on kicking the ball in the goal wasn't too hard. But yoga had been the next thing to hell for Sam. He'd even smacked the guy next to him at one point. After that yoga was out of the question.

Meditation was somewhat similar. It was the same, focus on your breath bullshit, but without the stretching and cramping your muscles into ridiculous shapes. At first it was just as hard. The first day he'd done it, he'd thought about everything; Jessica, breakfast, the bug crawling across his foot. The second time he'd given it more attempt, with little results.

Missouri took off and left Sam the instruction to try. Meditation didn't only calm and relax body and mind, it also strengthened the mind. He'd continued doing it after Missouri had left, despite what he wanted. Dean tried to join him as a form of support, but Dean wasn't the sitting and staying calm type of guy. Even on a hunt when he needed to be quiet and still his mind was on the next seven things to do, and his muscles ready for anything.

It took a few more attempts, but finally it was taking effect on Sam. He'd focused on his breaths. It was just in and out. No dead girlfriend, no demon on his heels, just the steady breathing.

Once his father had finished bristling about their shit news about – everything, Sam had come to his father with the request. He wanted to hunt. John wasn't amused, and neither was Sam when his request was flat out denied. It took Dean jumping in to help. The next day he'd be up early and training with his family. Sam was both worried, but ready. He was taking care of himself and another step towards helping others.

 **DIVIDEDIVIDEDIVIDE**

 _It was too pretty a day to be outside. The sun was out and warm, and the breeze cool. With no classes, Sam and Jessica had decided to go for a walk. Not only was the day beautiful. Jessica's hair was loose and blowing around her face. She was in a simple pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, but damned if she didn't look amazing in them. They paced slowly, stealing kisses throughout, walking through the campus coming across the field they'd shared many a lunch. The ring he'd been holding for the "right time" burned in his pocket._

 _He went to reach for it, but stopped. Up ahead his seventh grade teacher, Mr. Robinson, stood, a wicked smile curving his lips. When he widened his eyes they flashed and turned an eerie yellow. Despite the man looking sickly thin and exhausted, Sam knew he was a threat._

 _He shoved Jessica behind him._

" _Oh, Sammy-boy." He sang out amused. "You cannot protect her. You cannot protect anyone."_

 _Sam flinched when the man in front of him disappeared and he felt hands on his shoulders. Not Jessica's slim manicured hands. Calloused, boney hands slipped over his shoulder and into his peripheral vision. Sam inhaled sharply and spun around smacking the hand away from him. "Jess?"_

" _You can't protect anyone." His brother was now there, only it wasn't him. His muscular, strong, and obnoxious big brother was painfully thin, his eyes bleeding from the sockets. His shirt was of and Sam could see sharp lines of blood, and welts across his back and chest. His thin wrists were split open, and an ungodly amount of blood was spilling from them. "So, do your job Sammy."_

" _Dean?" Sam reached for his brother, but Dean stepped back fearfully._

" _Do your job, and everyone stays safe." Dean continued. "Do your job."_

" _What are you talking about, Dean?"_

" _Sammy!" Dean's voice turned frantic as more blood continued to pour from his wrist._

" _Dean!?"_

"Sammy!"

Sam inhaled sharply and sat up holding a hand to his beating chest. Sam exhaled slowly to calm himself and scrubbed a hand across his face. Only it was taking him a little longer for his heart to stop pounding.

"Hey, you okay?" Dean's voice snapped, as the lamp between the beds switched on. His big brother glanced worriedly at him. "You wouldn't wake up. Kept saying my name. I know I'm irresistible but that's kind of creepy given-"

-Sam could see things before they happened.

His brother instantly regretted what he had started saying. He'd been doing that a lot; apologizing for saying things that came first nature, but wasn't quite the right time. "Dude, I-"

"Don't apologize. You are right." Sam thought quietly wondering if he should mention the dream. Like Missouri said before. They could only help if they knew. But this wasn't a big deal, right? Not a vision, and it wasn't something his brother should know. "And no, it wasn't that kind of dream. Just a nightmare." Sam slipped his feet off the bed and bent down to retrieve the socks he'd taken off the night before. It was cold, and Bobby's home was both blessed, and afflicted with wooden floors.

"What kind of nightmare." He sensed Sam was holding back, and he wasn't sure why.

Why was Dean pushing it? It wasn't that big of a deal. "A nightmare. Like any other one I've been having."

Socks on, Sam reached for his Stanford hoodie. His heart was still going fast, and he needed to relax. He'd go downstairs, brew some tea, meditate a little, and see if he'd be able to get some shut eye before a tough training the next day.

"Where are you going?"

"I just need to calm down a little, maybe go over the notes a little more." Sam smiled reassuringly at his brother. "Just downstairs so my flailing ass, doesn't keep you awake."

"We've already poured over those." Dean scowled.

They had. Sam had after being reminded by all four of them, brought out the journal and they'd inspected each vision. A good number of them matched to children born the same year as Sam; all of them from different races, towns, and backgrounds. And they ranged. One had killed his wife in a jealous rage. Another had killed her girlfriend by accident. Then there were a few suicides. Sam remembered one where the girl's hand had been enflamed. At the time, he thought she was jumping in the river to put them out. Another had eaten his gun, and splattered the back of his head against the wall.

Then there had been the dreams that had no ties to the _children_. They all seemed to elude to what was a supernatural attack that one hunter or another had dealt with already. John even recognized one of Sam's dream's as his own when he hunted the Wendigo those weeks ago. Best way Sam could make sense of it was a warning of what was to come. Any future dreams were things he could prevent.

"Then- I'll- I don't know Dean. I'll just meditate or something…" Sam blew out an irritated breath, and scowled back at his brother. "Why don't you go back to sleep? One of us should be awake when training starts, might as well be you."

Dean purposefully ignored the alarm clock in the middle of their beds. No reason to go calculating the sleep he'd go missing. "You want me to brew that tea?" Even though it was phrased as a question, it was intended as a promise. He **was** going to brew that tea, whether Sam wanted him to or not. Maternal Dean showing his face.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, pretending he had some sort of power over it. "I'll be in the living room."

 **DIVIDEDIVIDEDIVIDE**

One second Sam was driving his fist towards Dean's gut, and the next his arm was grabbed and twisted. Just as quickly as he was looking at Dean, he was on his back looking up at the shifting clouds making shadows on the ground. Sam wasn't hurt, but the air did leave his lungs rapidly. He was left breathing in deeply on the ground.

Dean stood above him hands on his hips, and a smirk twisting his lips upward. When he saw his brother had collected his breath, he extended out a hand to him. "You used to be better…"

"Sorry." Sam grunted as he got to his feet with his brother's help. "Stanford didn't really have a fight club." He drooped down and put his hands to his knees as he inhaled deeply.

It had been a while. Last time his dad had watched over the two brother's as they sparred was just before the hunt. Then his father hadn't been too kind. Even Dean had jumped in to end the session, and get the kid inside to tend to bruises. Now, his father was sitting back letting Dean handle the lesson.

"He got tall." John offered from the porch. Both boys looked up. "Sam's center of gravity is different than when you first taught him."

Dean nodded. It was small, but John was doing his part not to be overbearing but helpful. He'd been doing that for the entire session just dropping helpful tips every now and again as he saw the opportunity. It was tough too. Sam was rusty. At twelve he'd decided that he wasn't going to be a hunter. Sure, the kid had kept up his exercise routine, but his ability to fight was weak compared to his intelligence and endurance. Although the two would certainly help him hone his skill.

Dean squared off again and bobbed on the balls of his feet. "So, your trying to get a man down with limited moves."

"Jab at the throat." Sam replied a little tiredly. They'd been at this a while, but this was what he wanted right. He wanted to hunt, and he knew that not only would the people he cared about not allow him to go out without knowing he could handle himself. He knew too, how stupid it was to go out unprepared. Unprepared meant that you ended up dead. At least that's what his father had instilled in all his training.

Sam crouched down and went to attack his brother only to have end up on his back again. It had been a while, but Sam couldn't ignore the ache from the holes in his chest left by Constance. He could no longer ignore the ache from his nearly healed burned skin as the tight skin stretched. Dean noticed that Sam wasn't collecting his breath as quickly. Bobby stood up from his chair ready to jump in and stop the session. Dean put a hand out and nodded.

"Let's call it a day, Sammy." Dean offered as he put down a hand.

Sam wheezed as he took his brother's hand. This time he groaned more as he tried to get up. Once vertical he wasn't so steady and Dean put out a hand to help. "I don't want to stop. I need to-"

Dean stopped his brother. "You need to rest. You run, and exercise, but fighting- fighting is pulling on all kinds of wounds right now. I want to check on them anyways."

"If I'm hunting I need to learn to fight through the pain." Sam panted.

"You're not hunting yet." Bobby stated firmly. He held open the back door to enforce the idea that they were done.

Just like Sam had predicted they were all cautious with him. Just like Dean, his _parents_ , Bobby and John, didn't find his revelation likable. Missouri before leaving had given them a few harsh words but after she'd gone they'd agreed. Just like that.

Sam sighed and walked towards the opened door. He wasn't getting out there any quicker with needless arguing. "We can stop, but I don't need medical attention. Nothing tore." Not a lie, the skin was healed, it was just tender skin that remained.

"I'm looking at the wounds, Sammy. Whether you like it or not." Dean snapped as he followed Sam into the kitchen. "And you are eating."

Dean had seated his little brother and was midway on a grilled cheese when he felt his phone vibrate. Dean pulled out his flip phone and stilled at the name. "Dad, I need you to take over here." Dean called out to his father.

John looked up from his book on lore and looked like he wanted to argue; up until he saw his son's almost stricken face. "Yeah, I got it. What's wrong?"

"I just gotta take this." Dean held up his phone and using his other hand tossed the spatula to his father.

John didn't get the chance to ask. Sam was tugging on a new shirt after antibiotic cream had been rubbed on the wounds, and missed his brother's face but read his tone. Before he could pull his head through the hole and check on Dean, he was out the back door.

"Cassie." Dean stated smoothly when he had the door shut behind him and the call picked up.

" _You don't get to talk all smooth to me."_ She snarled from the other line.

So she had gotten his text. He'd sent the obscure _we need to talk_ text, then when that didn't get the call he was expecting he'd sent the _I don't think this is working out_ text.

"Look, I tried to speak to you and you refused to pick up your phone." Dean didn't take a tone with her, but part of him was mad. Mad that he had to do this. Mad that his lifestyle wouldn't allow for them to work out. Ever.

" _Because I knew what you would do. Dammit Dean, I know the whole long distance thing is hard, but- I still want this dammit. I know you do too."_

Dean shut his eyes. "I do." His tone was tense. He didn't know where this next part would go. He didn't want to see where this next part would go. She was a reporter, it was her job to find interesting stories and write them. But Cassie didn't see the world as it was, she always looked for similar patterns and placed them with _real world_ answers, not _correct_ answers. "I sent the reason, Cassie."

" _And I got it."_ She snarled again and all Dean could think was how much he was going to miss her. _"You think spouting some crazy ass story is going to make me break up with you. You know what? It fucking should, Dean. If you're willing to write a fictional story that far out there just to get me to leave, you obviously don't want me."_

"Look I'm sorry, but you need to listen to me first." Dean urged. To her credit she did stop and listen. "Things _do_ exist in this world. Bad things and I don't want you to get hurt. Only thing is I can't protect you from those things. Somethings out for our family, and it's already killed my mom, and my brother's girlfriend. I don't want you next. _Nobody_ can get close to us."

" _Screw you."_

Dean ignored that. "I need you to keep my number." He broke her sputtering and insisted. "No, you need to keep it. You are a reporter, Cassie. I need you to realize that if a story is out there, sometimes the answer is too. Look into legends and lore and match them to stories. Once you realize watch out for strange things happening around you. Strange deaths, sounds, or people. If you don't ever feel safe, call me. I will be there to help you out. I just need you to call me."

" _You know what Dean Winchester you can go fuck yourself."_

The call was ended. Dean was left listening to the dial tone. God she'd been fantastic. He'd been so sure that she was _the one_ too. But he couldn't risk her life. What Sam had said hit him hard. They couldn't have normal. They couldn't keep everyone safe. When he'd sent the text, he knew he'd end a year long relationship. One where he'd made the drive to see her many times, and each time it was like no time had passed. He was relieved though. At least she'd be alive and pissed, and not dead.

"I'm sorry." Sam had slipped outside without him knowing, and overheard too much of the conversation. He wasn't sure how much was heard, but any was too much. The kid already blamed himself for so much, and he didn't need to blame himself for Dean's relationship ending. said quietly breaking him from his thoughts and pulling the phone away from his ear.

Dean wiped at moisture he wasn't aware had been collecting. "Hey, when did you sneak out here?" Dean tried immediately for humor.

"Dean…" Sam stated awkwardly.

"Don't. It's not your fault. It's not any of our fault." He finally ended the call and put the offending device in his pocket. "Besides, she wouldn't have believed me. I would have spent so much time lying to her, and the second I would have spoken the truth about all of this…" She would have cracked him in the face. Besides he was getting tired of lying next to a woman he was _lying_ to.

Sam remained quiet. Guilt reading very clearly on his expression.

"And it isn't your fault." Dean repeated. "It is dangerous to drag other people into our situation. However, we can be happy. I know that nothing we do will ever get Bobby away from us. And trust me we are annoying." He grinned wide. "Dad, he's always going to be there for us; misguided or not. And you and me; we always got each other's back. So it's not exactly perfect our little family, but we got it and it makes me happy."

"You don't want other things?" Sam asked his voice too small for someone his size. "You don't want normal things?"

"I don't know, Sam." Dean rolled his eyes. "I don't exactly see myself with a wife. Mowing the lawn. Helping a kid out with homework. I'd get tired of it, then I'd hurt whoever I'd brought in my life. No, I'm good. I am perfectly fine with what I got." He waved a dismissive hand. "Besides one bitch is enough."

"Jerk." Sam's tone picked up as he watched his brother push past him. The mood didn't improve any. It wasn't his fault. That's what everyone kept saying. Sam couldn't help but feel like it was. Things happened because of him, and that was just as bad. He sometimes figured that if he hadn't made it; the fire had consumed him like his mother had been consumed then a lot of people would be better off.

Dean looked back and saw his brother made no move to enter the kitchen again. Sam looked like someone had kicked him. Damn kid was probably kicking himself actually. Dean sighed and shot his arm through the door and jerked the surprised kid through the door way. "Stop it. I can see your gears turning, and you need to stop thinking so hard."

 **DIVIDEDIVIDEDIVIDE**

Sam was panting by the time he'd accomplished it but he'd done it. His brother was on the ground panting about as hard as he was. Sam had enough sense though to step back and avoid the foot his brother shot out to unbalance the taller Winchester.

Sam offered a hand to his big brother and helped pull him up.

"Not bad, runt." Dean praised his little brother out of breath.

"Not bad? I knocked you on your ass." Sam chuckled.

His humor left thought as he looked to his dad. This would be the part where John would put in his own two cents. John however shrugged and smiled. "Nice job, Sam." No comment on how sloppy the motion was, no statement on how he could improve. It was an honest to god complement. John didn't dish those out easily.

It had been a while that they'd been training Sam. He'd already gone on multiple "camping trips" where he'd been left on his own only to track where his father and brother were, and to shoot at them, with a paint gun if any of them jumped out of the foliage. He'd had the same lessons on weapons rehashed, where he'd passed easily. He kept up on the skill, even stopped by a few shooting ranges whenever he got time off in school. The only thing he was a little slow to learn was the hand to hand. He'd been knocked on his ass more times than he could count, but he'd gotten up and dealt with the twinges of pain and fatigue.

It was hard but Sam contained his excitement. However, as he looked at his father and brother their faces looked more thoughtful and worried than anything else. "You still are going to say no though." Sam's tone was a little bitter. "Geeze dad, at twelve you were shoving me towards hunts."

"It's been some time since then, Sam." John scowled. "I was in a darker place then. I just want to make sure that your ready."

"And how else is that going to be if I don't get out there?" Sam snapped. "You keep saying intuition is something I'm missing. How am I going to get that if I keep playing paint gun with you in the woods, or if Dean keeps knocking me on my ass at home?" John and Dean remained silent and only further angered Sam. "I know more about those things and their weaknesses than you two do."

Dean wasn't sure what to do, or what to say. Ten years ago, Sam was fighting to not hunt. He would have done anything to avoid hunting, and now the kid was fighting _to_ hunt. He had completely changed his tune. Dean was petrified of what could happen to the kid when he did go out and hunt. He had been petrified when Sam was headed to his first hunt. The kid could have gotten hurt, and sure enough he did get hurt. When they were left with Bobby he thought that his little brother was finally going to leave this world behind.

The Sam in front of him, with the bitch face, was resolute. There wasn't anything he could do to keep the kid from hunting, the only thing he could do was make sure the kid was breathing and alive by the end of the hunt.

"We'll all discuss it later, Sam." Dean interjected finally between his tense father and brother. "It's not an easy topic. For any of us. Last thing we want is you hurt." He held up his hands when his brother squared off his shoulders in anger. "Which can happen anywhere. I know, same argument as before, dude. Just know that we want you with all limbs, brain function, and working lungs for a good long time. It would kill Bobby if we let you run off and hunt only to get _yourself_ killed." The _'and I love you and don't want you to die; ever'_ remained silent.

Sam deflated a little. "I got you."

"Good." Dean smirked. He opened his mouth to suggest lunch, but Bobby opened the back door.

The man's eyes searched out the yard until he spotted John. "Hey, John. You got a phone call."

"Who is it?" John padded back to the house. He scowled when Bobby smirked. "Who is- it isn't Missouri is it? What now? Did my dad disappear because he was a communist? Or was my mother actually a man, and she just shaved her legs and her face so frequently that I didn't realize?"

Inside John spotted the phone off the cradle and picked up phone from the counter. "What?" John blurted angrily. His face fell almost instantly. "Whoa whoa, what?"

Sam and Dean entered in time to see their father no longer angry, his face twisted in shock. Sam started to open his mouth in question but Dean put a hand to Sam's chests stopping the words. Sam looked to his brother in question but didn't demand any answers. He could tell from his father's face that another God-awful blow had been given.

"You have got to be kidding me Missouri!? Seriously, we left that place a long time ago. I promised-" John's shoulders tensed. "I promised my boy we'd never return. Not even if a pack of vampires were running free and snacking on anything with blood."

Dean's breath caught. He wasn't sure if he was referring to himself or Sam. For him though there were two places Dean refused to return to. Fort Douglas, Wisconsin; where he'd failed his brother all those years ago and nearly let him get killed because he was bored and wanted to play video games. The other was Lawrence, Kansas where he'd grown up for four years only to have his mother die and his home burned. Either one he didn't want to return to. And if he was referring to Sam, he didn't want to go there either.

"No, I get that a woman and her children's life are in danger, but-" John shut his eyes actually shut his eyes as he listened to what Dean assumed was Missouri chewing him out on the other line. "No, I get it. Give me seven hours. I'll go alone-" John paused and scowled. "What?! Why?"

"Where dad?" Dean sighed knowing Missouri wanted them to join him.

John put the mouth piece away from his ear. "Lawrence."

Even Sam paused. He'd heard about Lawrence. He'd heard stories about the life Dean used to live; before they were driven around the country by revenge.

"It's okay. If it's important, I'll go." Dean didn't hesitate.

"It's not just Lawrence, Dean." John roughly told Missouri to hold on and put the phone down on the counter. "It's _our_ home. Apparently, it's picked up an unwanted guest."

"Poltergeist?" Sam questioned. He swallowed when he got a nod. He wasn't emotionally attached to the home. Hell, he'd never really spent much time there. He had no memories of his own of that place. The ones he was worried about now was his father and his brother. They went through every ordeal. With the proverbial rug pulled out from all of them about his mother's identity, going home would be just another blow against the only two who were aware of the severity of the situation all those years ago.

Dean scrubbed a hand against his newly shaven face. "If it's going after a family, I don't care. No one else can die in that house."

John studied his son. He really didn't want to go. His body was now stiffened and his jaw tensed. The kid was willing to go however; he'd sacrifice his own feelings so that someone would live. So, he'd do the same. He picked up the phone again and sighed. "We're coming."

 **(A/N: So if you could tolerate the story then why not leave a review. If you noticed anything wrong then please let me know.)**


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